Vincit Omnia Veritas
by lousiemcdoogle
Summary: Fourteen years ago, she had done the most despicable thing a wife could do to her husband. Now, finally, she could tell him the truth. But the truth was, she had made him walk through the fiery pits of hell, and now he was about to find out it was all based on a lie.
1. Prologue

**A/N: This idea came to me as I was drifting off to sleep one night, and as soon as I thought of it, I wanted ****to read that fic. When I sat down to write it, it quickly became one of the hardest things I've ever attempted. I started over, wanted to give up constantly, and am finally in a place where I feel I can begin posting- but you need to know that due to an inconsistent RL, there may be gaps between updates. I wa****nted to give the idea away to one of the other talented writers in this fandom but I was too shy to suggest it. Instead, I have butchered and blundered my way through on my own, so please forgive me for any places where I've had to bend canon to make the story work- by it's nature, this story is slightly AU. **

**This story is dedicated to the wonderful, talented authors on this site who give me something new to smile about or weep over every day. Truly, you bless me and you bring me so much joy by sharing your amazing work. **

**Castle belongs to Andrew Marlowe and ABC. Blame them for writing such compelling characters who won't let me go until I've taken them out and let them run around the block a few times, before it starts too get dark and we all have to go back in. **

* * *

"_Death __cannot __stop __True __Love. __It __can __only __delay __it __for __a __little __while."_

_-Westley, __The __Princess __Bride_

* * *

It was a door.

Just a door.

She could knock on a door.

Really. She could do it.

Taking a deep breath, she abstractly ran fingers through her salt-and-pepper hair. Someone had once told her she did that as a stalling device. Well, she sure was stalling.

How hard is it to lift one's fist and knock?

Clutching the old fashioned carpet bag to her side in a vice like grip, she closed her eyes. Her free hand fisted at her side, but for the life of her, she couldn't lift it.

It wasn't so much the door, really. It was that _he_ was behind it. She knew he was there. In her debrief, she had been given his address, told that he still lived in their their knowledge, he lived alone. From the street below she had seen the lights on, the movement of a familiar shadow in the window, the flicker of the television.

She hadn't seen him in 14 years, almost to the day. And she couldn't even begin to imagine what his reaction was going to be.

Fourteen years ago, she had done the most despicable thing a wife could do to her husband. Now, finally, she could tell him the truth. But the truth was that she had made him walk through the fiery pits of hell, and now he was about to find out it was all based on a lie. She had no idea whether or not he was going to forgive her. No idea how he was going to receive her. All she knew was that she had been dreaming of this moment for fourteen long years, and now that it was finally upon her, she was petrified.

She leaned her forehead against the door jam, staring unseeingly at the apartment number. Reaching out slender fingers, she traced the numbers slowly, reveling in the solid feel of the door in front of her, the door she had been aching to walk through every single day of her exile.

She couldn't do it.

She couldn't knock.

He had moved on. He must have moved on. Surely. It had been fourteen years. Even if he hadn't seen the crime scene photos, identified the body, organized the funeral- even if he had held hope that she was somehow still alive out there- she had still been gone twice the time needed to be presumed and legally declared dead. He owed her nothing. For all she knew, he might be seeing someone. Perhaps he was even engaged, or the information she had been given was out of date, and he had remarried. He was well within his rights to do so. A small corner of her, the part of her that genuinely wished him true happiness, almost wished it was so. He deserved to be happy. He deserved to be free of her. For all their happiness before they had been torn apart, she had brought him nothing but misery since, and she refused to begrudge him any solace he might have found now. If he had moved on, good. She would hold her head high, tell him the truth, and wish him well.

But she didn't want him to be with anyone else. She waited fourteen interminable, agonizing years for him, dammit, and the thought of finding him with someone else turned her stomach, caused bile to rise to the back of her throat. She knew it was ridiculous. She had been dead. And now, fourteen years later, she expected him to stand by the vows they made to one another before God a lifetime ago? She could still hear his deep, resonant voice repeating after the priest- _'Till __death __do __us __part_. Well, death had parted them, as far as he was aware. He was released. Their vows didn't count any more, even though she had been faithful to him, ached for him, and felt his absence every day for the past fourteen years.

She just needed to see him. Just once. Just see him and hopefully get the chance to explain and wish him well. Just to look into his beautiful eyes one more time, that's all she could ask for. To get to inhale his scent. She wondered if he still smelled the same, that unique mixture of paper and spice and man. Maybe, just maybe, he would hug her as she she graciously wished him and whatever woman he was with all the best, because surely he was too good a catch to not have been snapped up by now. Just maybe he would hug her goodbye, and she would get to feel the strength of his arms around her one last time, the breadth of his shoulders, the press of his chest against her own... And then she could leave, clear out his life again for good. Let him carry on with whomever he had chosen to replace her. He might regret it and it might upset him for a while, but if she had the chance to explain, to tell him that he was forgiven for moving on- that's all she asked for.

She knew this was selfish. If it wasn't selfish, she would stay dead to him. She wouldn't disrupt his life all over again. She would let him go on thinking he was free to move on- as, legally, he was. If he was still the man she married, still the man of integrity she had respected and admired and yearned for, he would be upset by her coming here tonight-he would feel like he had somehow betrayed her by moving forward. Perhaps it would be for the best if she simply disappeared without seeing him. She was finally free to start a new life with a new identity- they had offered that to her. She could still take them up on it and he would never be any the wiser. She would always love him, of course, always stay faithful to him. For even though she was dead to him, she had sworn once before God and man _'Till __death __do __us __part_, and she would honor that vow until she really did breathe her last breath.

But could she live with herself, knowing that he didn't know? That the reason he didn't know was because even when she was finally free to tell him the truth, she still will fully withheld it? They had always prided themselves on their communication, on always telling each other the truth. Her unbending quest for truth, after all, is what got her into this position in the first place. She knew he would never forgive her if he found out through a third party. She would never forgive herself if she did not take this opportunity to confess. She had to do it.

She _had _to do it.

Even though it wasn't the easiest option- even though it was selfish, would disrupt his life completely, and quite possibly ruin any happy memories he had held on to through the years- she had to do it. Anything less than the absolute truth would require her to step beyond the bounds of her own integrity, to deviate from the plum line of veracity she had sworn to live her life no matter how hard or how uncomfortable the truth might be- no matter how inconvenient or disruptive, no matter if he shunned her and threw her out of his life as she deserved- no matter what the consequences, she had to see this through. She had to tell him.

She straightened her slim shoulders and took a deep breath. She could do it.

Steeling herself, she raised her trembling fist and rapped on the door.


	2. Chapter 1

_"You __truly __love __each __other __and __so __you __might __have __been __truly __happy. __Not __one __couple __in __a __century __has __that __chance, __no __matter __what __the __story __books __say. And __so __I __think __no __man __in __a __century __will __suffer __as __greatly __as __you __will."_

_-Prince __Humperdink, __The __Princess __Bride_

* * *

Jim Beckett hit the mute button as commercials came on after the sports news and ambled into the kitchen. Placing the kettle on the stove, he automatically reached for the cupboard to pull out a mug and an Earl Grey tea bag. He set them by the stove, leaning against the bench where this morning's paper was open to the crossword. He'd only had time to glance at it briefly this morning before work, and as he waited for the kettle, he began to half heartedly fill in a couple of words.

It had been years before he had been able to do the crossword again. It had been part of his and Johanna's morning ritual. In between battling Katie to get out of bed and off to school, they had tag-teamed the crossword. She had flipped eggs and filled in an answer. He would pour coffee and fill in another. Help Katie find clean socks, another answer. Tie his tie, another. Throughout their morning routine, they would chip away at it until the last half-dozen or so answers remained, which, bright as Jim was, he was rarely able to get. At that point, Johanna would fill out a letter at a time during Jim's turn until he got the word, or until it was time to scramble out the door- in which case she would fill out the rest in her quick, deft scrawl, gathering up briefcases and handbags as she did so.

It wasn't the same doing the crossword any more, but he was long since used to it now- the silence in the apartment, only getting himself out the door in the morning, doing the crossword alone. Every now and then, he even got it all the way done on his own, and it was those days he missed her the most. She wasn't there to see the light of victory in his eyes, to plant a kiss on his cheek and tease him about how many more he'd have to finish to even up the score. He missed the competitive gleam in her eyes, the way she oozed light and life and love even as they argued over the smallest thing, always a battle for one-upping the other. She usually won, of course, but he rarely minded. Her winning somehow meant he won, too, because she would smile at him in that way that made the room light up, even after two decades of marriage.

He rarely bothered to finish it any more. He filled in a couple of the easiest answers as he waited for the kettle to boil, but he gladly put it aside when he was ready to pour his tea. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, checking the text message. One of his AA friends wanting to know if he was free to go fishing that weekend. It sounded like just what he needed. Most days the emptiness and the quietness of the apartment didn't bother him so much. He had gotten used to it, even rearranged some of the furniture, changed the look of the room. Little things, to remind him that he still had the precious gift of life. He could still honor her, remember her- still grieve for her when he needed to, although the need to do that was occurring less and less often as he learned to live again. Now, however, thanks to his Katie pulling him out of the bottle and his AA friends who had become like family, he was learning to honor her through his life.

Sometimes it even worked. Sometimes a week or three would go by, and between fishing, baseball, work, friends, and meeting Katie for breakfast, he didn't feel the gaping hole in his life quite so much. Nights, of course, were hardest, curling up alone in the bed they had shared. Even that didn't ache quite so much any more. After all, later this week it would be fourteen years.

A knock on the door resounded through the silent room. Leaving his phone and his tea on the bench, he crossed to the door, eyebrows knitted in confusion. Katie was meant to be coming over tomorrow night for dinner, this time bringing Rick with her, too- he smiled at that, fleetingly. He might not be too fond of the thought of the author using his daughter for "inspiration" for writing certain scenes in the Heat books, but no one could deny how good he really was for Katie- or the fact that he had already proved himself, time and again, in the way that he constantly had his daughter's back. Perhaps one of them had the day wrong. Or maybe it was one of his AA buddies dropping in for a quiet chat, the way they sometimes did.

Glancing through the peep hole, he saw a woman standing on the other side, clutching an old fashioned carpet bag. She was looking down, and he couldn't see her face clearly- he didn't recognize her, but she did look awfully familiar. One of his AA buddies' wives perhaps? Either way, she looked harmless enough, although possibly like she might be in need of help, and with that thought, he opened the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely, noticing she hadn't looked up as the door swung open. She was trembling, her shoulders hunched slightly- yet everything about this woman was as familiar to him as his own reflection. It wasn't until she raised her eyes to meet his that he realized why.

Her eyes were hazel. Fathomless and deep, changeable as autumn leaves, rich and expressive. He knew those eyes. They were the first thing he had noticed about her, the first thing he had fallen in love with. It was those eyes that had haunted him until he could stand the pain of separation no more, until he dove head first into the bottle and nearly drowned. He had missed those eyes, longed to wake up next to them one more time, watch them soften in laughter or crackle with passion or light up in thought. He had begged God over and over and over for one more chance to look into those eyes, even when he knew there was no chance. He would never see them again.

Yet here they were, at his front door, filled with fear and wonder and apprehension.

"Jim?"


	3. Chapter 2

"_You __can __die, __too, __for __all __I __care!__" __-Buttercup_

"_AAAAAAS __YOOOOOOU __WIIIIIIIIIIIIISH!__" __-Man __in __Black_

"_Oh, __my __sweet __Westley! __What __have __I __done?__" __-Buttercup_

-The Princess Bride_  
_

* * *

Her voice was hesitant, low, trembling with need. He had forgotten the music of her voice.

Reality sank in all of a sudden and the color drained away from his face. He stumbled backwards into his apartment. Their apartment. The home they had once shared for more than two decades.

He stared at her, cowering into the wall, unable to grasp the concept of her presence.

He had gone mad. That was the only explanation.

He had survived the bottle only to do one crossword too many and finally cross the line into complete hallucination.

Perhaps he had fallen asleep in his armchair, and this was all just a dream, a hoax, his mind playing tricks on him. It wasn't the first time he had dreamed of her. Sometimes it had even felt real. It had been years since that had happened, though- now when he dreamed of her, it was a fleeting memory, the edge of a fantasy. He couldn't remember it ever being this real.

Even as he stumbled away, her eyes filled with tears.

He had never been able to handle her tears. She was such a strong person he had rarely seen her cry, and every time she had, it had torn out his heart. Even now, staring at the apparition in front of him, stumbling away from the evidence of his broken mind, his heart twisted within him at the sight of her tears. A fierce longing took hold of him, and it was all he could do even in his addled state not to reach out and wipe them away, to coax a smile from those lips, to kiss that porcelain skin. But even as that longing swept through him, he couldn't move, couldn't breath. Certainly couldn't touch her.

If he touched her, she would disappear. Of that, he was certain. He had never believed in ghosts, even in the possibility of their existence until this very moment, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he attempted physical contact, the vision before him would vanish like a mirage.

She was a mirage.

He had longed for her, thirsted for herfor fourteen years and now, finally, his mind had broken and created the illusion that she was here. That she was standing on their threshold, home.

It couldn't be true. It wasn't true. But he could only stare, because if he glanced away even for a second, she would be gone. He would be alone. Again. She would be dead. Again. And even though this was finally proof that he was losing his mind, he could not bring himself to end this sweet torture.

Back pressed against the wall, he waited for the apparition to dissipate. Only she never did. Instead, she spoke. Hesitantly, once again, nothing like the no-nonsense lawyer he remembered.

"May I... may I come in?"

He nodded dumbly, watched as she slowly stepped across the threshold, walked past him into the open plan living room. Blindly nudging the front door shut, he shuffled after her, still staying well back, drinking in the sight of her. She placed her carpet bag on the floor next to the dining table, her gaze flicking around the room, absorbing the details for a long moment before turning to look at him.

"I like what you've done with the place," she offered. His throat closed over. Her presence here was so good, so right. She felt so real. He closed his eyes against her, against the emotion rising up within him.

Enough of this. She's dead.

Yet when he opened his eyes, she was still standing there, watching him with that knowing, steady green gaze he could so easily get lost in.

"You're not real," he croaked. She took a step towards him, reached out a hand. He jerked away, sidling into the kitchen so that the breakfast bar was between them. This time when she spoke, her voice was laced with something akin to amusement.

Only Johanna's ghost would laugh at him at a time like this.

"I know it's a lot to take in, Jim, but I am real."

"You're not. You can't be," he argued weakly.

"I am," she raised an eyebrow, challenging him with a look that used to make him crazy hot for her. Still did, apparently.

He blinked, shook his head as if to clear the haze, and looked at her again.

It was definitely Johanna. She was older than he remembered her. The last time he had seen her was that January morning when he had kissed her goodbye over the crossword. There were lines around her eyes where he remembered her skin being smooth and firm. Her hair had silver streaks where it had once been dark. She was still beautiful, though, graceful even though she had aged. There was a lurking sorrow in the depths of her eyes that he didn't recognize from before. He could only imagine what she saw in his face.

Clearing his throat, he shifted his weight, his lawyer training helping him regain control of his emotions- outwardly, at least. Build a wall, that's what he was good at. It was one trait of his he recognized in his daughter. When he spoke this time, his voice was calm, controlled.

"What are you doing here, Jo?"

She went from faintly amused and teasing to hesitant and unsure in the blink of an eye. There was a long pause before she spoke.

"I wanted you to know the truth."

"The truth? You mean that you've been alive for the past fourteen years?" his voice was ice cold, an irrational anger sweeping over him leaving him dizzy.

"Yes," she whispered, dropping her eyes to the bench between them. For some reason, this made him even angrier. His Jo had never been a mouse- never been contrite or hesitant. His Jo attacked, blazed with passion, argued back. She fought dirty and she fought hot. He knew how to handle his Jo, what buttons to push, when to back down, how to harness that passion and turn it in more mutually pleasurable directions. This Jo, fearful and hesitant, he had no idea about. Wishing desperately for her to show some of her spirit and fight back, he began a verbal attack.

"So tell me, Johanna. Tell me the truth. Tell me why you were murdered senselessly in an alley fourteen years ago, leaving me to drown in a bottle and our daughter to drown in an endless quest for justice. Tell me why now, after all this time, when we had finally put it behind us and were learning to live again, tell me how you can show up on my doorstep as if nothing has changed. Go ahead, tell me the truth!" he spat, voice low, full of a venom he didn't understand. He braced his hands on the counter to stop them from shaking.

She swallowed, her bottom lip quivering. She slipped it under her teeth, gnawing at it as she scrambled for control, for words.

"I'm sorry," she finally gasped. "I can see it was a mistake to come. I shouldn't have. I just thought you'd want to know, now that I'm free to tell you."

She turned to go.

"Jo, please," his voice cracked, tears suddenly blurring his vision**.**

Stopping in her tracks, she looked back at him over her shoulder, trying to decipher what he was trying to communicate through his rapidly changing emotions. Finally she sighed, took off her coat, and draped it over the back of the nearest easy chair before sliding onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

"Your tea's getting cold," she said. He glanced down at his mug, then turned to the kettle.

"I can make another. You want one?"

"Please."

He refilled the kettle and placed it on the burner. Carefully tipping out his drink, he rinsed the mug out and reached into the cupboard for another, as well as two fresh teabags.

"Still have milk no sugar?" he asked as she watched him movearound the kitchen, only pausing to look at her when he received no answer.

"Sorry, yes. I was surprised you still remember," she replied. He looked at her for a long moment.

"How could I forget?" he asked, dropping his eyes and turning back to his task.

Silence reigned between them until he placed a pair of steaming mugs between them. A smile quirked on the corner of her mouth as she picked hers up.

"I can't believe you still have this mug. I'd forgotten it," she said in explanation when he raised an eyebrow. It was a "World's Greatest Dad" mug, a Father's Day gift from Katie when she in high school. Johanna and Katie had made a big deal of the gift as he was unwrapping it, swearing that it was a rare find as only one such mug was produced every year.

Sipping his tea, he took a moment to savor it as he leaned his hip against the corner of the bench, watching her. "Jo," he prompted, and she looked up at him ruefully.

"Sorry, just enjoying the moment," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she searched for words. "I'm not sure how much you know about the case I was working on..."

"Katie's given me the outline, at least. She knows all there is to know," he interrupted, and she nodded as if already aware of this information.

"That's what I thought. Anyway, what you- and Katie- don't know is that Bob Armand, the undercover FBI agent whose murder began this whole mess, had a partner inside the club that night, Agent Andrew Johnson, who did his own investigation into Armand's death. He found out before I ever came along that Bracken was involved, was behind Dick Coonan silencing everyone else who got too close. He made contact with me when he got intel that I was next on the hit list. He asked me to help them set a trap, fake my own death and go into witness protection, but I didn't want to leave you and Katie. Coonan really did come after me in the alley that day. But what no one knows, not even Coonan, is that I didn't die. Andy appeared out of nowhere, scared Coonan away before he could see he'd missed his first blow- the one that was meant to be fatal. Andy warned me while we waited for the ambulance that if I survived this, Coonan would come for me again and again, and could very well use my family to get to me. I had to make a snap decision about whether or not I would do it. I kept seeing Coonan stabbing Katie and I..." here she broke, shoulders shaking as she tried to control her tears. "He told me it would only be temporary, but that it was the only way to save you and Katie. I had to agree, Jim. I had to."

"What happened next?" he prompted gently.

"He told me when I woke in hospital that they already had the NYPD in to investigate the 'random gang violence gone wrong'. Had a body for the crime scene, stabbed like me and ready to go. Already broken the news to you and Katie. It only hit me then that I wouldn't get to say good bye. That I was committed to see this through until it was finished.I thought it was only going to be for a few months, but Andy and his team were careful, thorough. They didn't want to add to the death toll or tip Bracken off. Finally, last week, we caught a break- the final piece of evidence we needed- and if you watched the news two nights ago, you'd have seen Senator Bracken being led away in handcuffs. And I'm free, finally, to tell you the truth- that I've been alive all this time."

She stopped talking almost abruptly, casting her eyes down to the counter top, and sipped at her tea as if grateful to have something to do with her hands.

He watched her, silently absorbing this new information, taking several long moments to process everything. His heart was pounding, and he was feeling a little light headed- and that small demon inside his mind that he knew would never completely go away whispered to him that now would be a really good moment for a drink.

He physically turned his head from that voice. Even though he was floundering, even though everything he thought he knew about his life had been turned on its head in just a few short minutes, he would not let himself go back down that path. He was nearly at ten years, dammit, he wasn't going to throw it away now, even if the wife he had mourned for 14 years was suddenly back from the grave.

Finally, he sighed heavily, ran a hand through his hair and then waved it in a slightly helpless gesture. "I don't know what to say, Jo. How am I supposedto react to this?" he almost whispered, looking away and blinking furiously at the burning sensation behind his eyes. "And- God, what about Katie? What the hell am I supposed to say to her? Have you seen her at all? Does she know any of this?"

Johanna shook her head. "They didn't tell me anything about Katie. All they told me was that you still lived here, and to their knowledge, you lived alone. They told me I was free to find you, to tell you the truth, but if I wanted to start over, they would provide me with the means to make that happen."

He nodded slowly. "Is that what you want?" he asked quietly. She looked at him for a long moment.

"No," she said, her voice soft but firm, before her eyes dropped away again at a new thought. "But I understand that my being alive again is going to upset things. If you're seeing someone, I don't want to get in the way of that. I've been dead fourteen years, after all, and-"

"I'm not seeing anyone," he interrupted her. Her eyes flew up to meet his, wide and hopeful.

"You-you're not?" she stuttered. "But it's been fourteen years..."

He leaned down on the breakfast bar, pushing himself into her space, forcing her to look at him. "There has never been anyone for me but you, Jo," he said, the softness of his tone somehow only confirming the underlying steel of his conviction. She gazed at him, uncomprehending, even as her eyes filled with tears as her emotions suddenly caught up with her.

"But- how- you're amazing. You're handsome and smart and well off and you've been single for so long now, and you let me name the goldfish 'Sushi' when we newlyweds, and..."

Jim came around the bench and perched on the stool next to hers. He caught her wildly gesturing hands, touching her for the first time in fourteen years without even realizing it, simply desperate to bring her comfort. "I won't say there haven't been moments whenI've been tempted. I've been asked out- a couple of times, actually. But it's never gone any further than a fleeting thought because none of them compared to you. And even if all I had was your memory, it still meant more to me than any other woman ever could. There's never been anyone else. Only you."

She nodded, taking deep calming breaths, finally mastering control of the tears that had been silently escaping her, gripping his hands with everything she had. "There hasn't been anyone else for me, either, Jim. You have no idea how much I longed for you, how much it hurt knowing you thought I was dead, and there was nothing I could do about it. I would lie awake at night, wondering if you had moved on, if you were with someone else, and even though the thought made me sick, I couldn't blame you. Not when I was dead."

He released one of her hands to tenderly cradle her cheek in his palm, gently wiping away the remains of her tears with his thumbs. "I wouldn't have blamed you, you know- if you had found someone else. It's been fourteen years, Jo, and you obviously have a deep respect for this Agent Johnson, for example, so if that grew into something more, I wouldn't blame-"

"Andy?" she interrupted him with a snort that reminded him for some reason of their daughter. "No. Just- no. No," she shuddered, and he couldn't help but laugh, moving to his feet and drawing her up with him, pulling her gently into his arms. They lost time as they stood there, simply embracing one another, breathing each other in and delighting in the feel of finally, finally being together once again.

Eventually, it was Johanna who broke the silence, snuggling into his shoulder with a contented sigh.

"I've missed this," she murmured. He smiled into her hair.

"Me, too," he pulled away just far enough to stroke her cheek gently, looking deeply into her eyes, before leaning in and brushing his lips lightly, tentatively against hers.

She drew back to look at up at him. "Jim, what about Katie? How on earth am I going to tell her?"

Reaching awkwardly with one hand so he didn't have to let her go, he picked up his phone off the bench.

"It's not too late just yet, especially if she's working. How about I call her and see if she's free tonight?"


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter is earlier than planned because it's dedicated to BlueOrchid96, since she said she wanted another chapter, and it's her birthday (or was... these time differences get confusing...) so happy birthday, CB!**

* * *

_"Have fun storming the castle." -Miracle Max_  
_"Think it'll work?" -Valerie_  
_"It would take a miracle." -Miracle Max,_ The Princess Bride

* * *

"All right, boys, let's call it a night," Kate called across the near-silent bullpen, dropping the dry-erase marker on her desk and tiredly running a hand through her hair. Ryan stretched from where he was huddled over their victim's phone records, and punched his partner on the arm, rousing him from where he had been nearly drifting off as he waded through financial records. Espo muttered something under his breath as he stood, which quickly escalated into good-natured banter as the boys gathered their coats and headed for the elevators, throwing farewells over their shoulders. Kate smiled affectionately after them as she watched them leave. It wasn't really that late in the grand scheme of things, but they had been called to the crime scene at 4am, and it was now just gone 17 hours later. They were in a pretty good place to stop, really- they just needed to piece together a couple more links in the evidence chain, procure a search warrant for their suspect's apartment- which wouldn't be approved until tomorrow no matter what happened- and they would have more than enough evidence to make an arrest by lunch time, all going according to plan. She was fairly certain she could get a confession out of their suspect, too, if she played her cards right. She paused in front of the murder board, frowning at the picture of the brother held by a magnet under the "suspect" heading. Yes, he wouldn't take much convincing to break.

"You're not going to get a confession out of his picture, you know," the warmth in Castle's voice wrapped around her like a blanket, and she looked over her shoulder at him, ensconced in his chair by her desk. She couldn't help the affectionate smile that spread across her face as she nodded and began shutting down her computer and straightening her desk for the night.

"You didn't have to stay tonight, you know," her voice was soft, even though the bullpen was empty apart from the two of them. He smiled as he stood, pulling his coat on.

"I know. I wanted to be with you, though. Partners, remember? Besides, I'm still not used to being in the loft alone."

"When was the last time you were there alone?" she challenged him even as she allowed him to help her on with her coat. He turned her to face him, gently lifting her hair free from her collar before lifting his laughing eyes to meet hers.

"My point exactly, Detective. I'm not used to being in the loft _alone_," he gently emphasised the last word, wiggling his eyebrows at her in a way that once upon a time would have had her repressing the urge to reach for her gun and now only had her failing the urge to repress a smile. He grinned back at her before stepping away, automatically respecting her rules about behaviour at the precinct even if there was apparently no one around to see them. Meandering together to the elevator, occasionally not so accidentally bumping hips as they walked, she hit the call button but didn't look at him as they stepped inside, in sync as ever.

"I guess we can't allow you to be home alone tonight, either, then, can we?" she smirked at him as the doors slid shut. He grinned at her, but didn't reach for her hand until they were outside the precinct, using his other to hail a cab. She cuddled into his arm a little, shivering as they waited for the taxi to pull over. As soon as they scooted in to the back seat, and Castle had given his address to the driver, he pulled her firmly into his arms and sought her mouth out with his own. She responded almost instantly, opening to him and humming as she tasted him.

"God, I miss kissing you!" he mumbled against her mouth. She giggled, trailing her mouth across the light stubble on his jaw, loving how he groaned in response.

Her phone rang. He groaned, landing his head on her shoulder as she reached into her pocket to pull out the device, trailing her fingers through his hair as she did so. She was too busy laughing at his dramatic reaction to look at the caller id.

"Beckett," she answered automatically, squirming a little as Castle discovered that leaning on her shoulder gave him easy access to the skin on her neck.

"Katie?" her father's voice reached her befuddled brain at exactly the same moment as Castle's tongue found her skin, and she jerked in surprise, her fingers tightening around his hair.

"Ow! Apples!" he cried, even as she was breathlessly saying "Dad! Hi!" into the phone. Castle turned startled blue eyes to her, his expression reminiscent of being caught with fingers in the cookie jar.

"Everything ok there?" her father had managed to catch at least a little of the commotion within the cab.

"Fine," she choked out, praying she sounded normal. "Just finished work."

"Uh huh," she could just picture her father's eyes dancing at her flustered response. He was clearly enjoying his end of the conversation a little too much. "Listen, Katie, something's come up, and I was wondering if you were free, if I could come in and see you this evening?"

"Are you ok? Is everything all right?" she questioned, immediately concerned.

"Everything's fine. I just... there's, well, something you need to know. It's actually a really good thing, but it's something you need to know about."

"You're not reassuring me here, Dad," she leaned the phone away from her mouth and whispered to Castle, "I may need to go back to my place to meet my Dad."

"Were you on your way to Rick's?" _Well, at least he's not going deaf yet_, she thought glumly.

"I... um... maybe?"

"We'll head there, then. Trust me, Katie, it'll be better if he's there, too. Give me about half an hour?"

"Dad, are you-" she began, but he cut her off.

"See you soon, Katie!" and then the line went dead.

"Kate? You ok? Do we need to turn around?" Castle asked, watching her as she stared blankly at her phone.

"No. He said he'd come to your place. He's got something to tell me, and it's important, apparently," she lifted her eyes up to meet him, almost black in the passing shadows. "Castle, what if something's wrong? I mean, we're having dinner with him later this week, and he suddenly wants to talk tonight?"

"Did he say it was bad news?" he asked tentatively, drawing her closer so she could lean against his shoulder.

"No. In fact, he said it's good, but he needed to tell me. Oh, God, what if he has a girlfriend?" she sat up straight so she could look him in the eye. "Castle, I couldn't handle that. What if he has a girlfriend and he wants us to meet her when we go to dinner?"

"Kate, do really want him to be alone forever?" Castle asked gently. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked at him guiltily.

"Would you think less of me if I said yes?" she asked quietly. He shook his head slowly.

"I wouldn't think less of you. I'd be sad for him, because I think he'd be a little disappointed- and frankly, I think after everything he's been through he deserves a little happiness- but I completely understand why him moving on like that would be difficult for you."

"You make me sound selfish and petty," she grumbled, and he laughed and pulled her back into his arms again.

"You're entitled to be a little selfish now and then, Kate. You're the least selfish person I think I've ever met. It's why we work so well together- opposites attract," he joked, and she punched him in the arm as the cab pulled over in front of his building.

Getting out, she waited as he paid the driver, and caught his hand in hers as they made their way inside, exchange polite pleasantries with the doorman. She stepped into his embrace once they were in the elevator, but her mind was racing with possibilities of what her father might want. Castle, for once, seemed to be aware of her pensive mood, and silently wrapped his arms around her, holding her as they ascended to his loft.

Letting them both in, he only broke the silence as he helped her take off her coat. "There's still a while before he gets here. How about you have a quick shower and get out of your work clothes? I'll see if I can find us some dinner."

She nodded, pausing only to brush her lips against his in appreciation, before heading straight to his bedroom.

They hadn't talked yet about moving in with one another, purposely concentrating on enjoying the stage of relationship they were in, and still spent at least a couple of nights a week separately. Having said that, a number of his items had gradually found their way to her apartment, and she had a couple of drawers in his dresser and her own little section of his wardrobe. It had happened slowly over the course of the past few months, and had barely been commented on at the time, but right now she was thankful that she had a soft pair of jeans, a tank top, and a hoodie to change into after her shower. It meant she could wash off the day's grime, and still wear something appropriate to greet her father in when he arrived.

She sighed as she stripped off her clothes in the bedroom, throwing them haphazardly across the room in the general direction of the laundry pile. She knew her father, knew that between work, baseball, fishing, and AA, he didn't have a lot of free time available. He also knew by now what her schedule could be like, so seeking her out mid-week like this without being planned out carefully in advance was almost unheard of. Walking into the bathroom, she turned the shower on, adjusting the various controls to suit her preferences. Castle would grumble about it next time he got in, but she knew it was the kind of crankiness that was on par with her reactions to his constant suggestions of ninja assassins at crime scenes. In other words, he secretly loved that she was at home enough in his shower to adjust the settings.

The thing she loved most about his shower, of course, was turning the water pressure right up until it pounded away at any residual stress knots in her back and shoulders. She moaned in pleasure as she felt her muscles relaxing under the hot spray, and all concerns she had about her father's imminent arrival melted away as she washed herself clean of the day.

* * *

Castle, meanwhile, hung up both their coats and toed off his shoes before wandering over to the ipod dock. Selecting his play list of great, classic songs for background music, he hummed merrily back to the kitchen and searched through the cupboards, eventually deciding to go with a basic pasta dish. He heard the faint sounds of his shower being turned on, and he grinned to himself, still giddy at the thought that Kate Beckett was right now naked in his apartment. The thought still caught him by surprise on occasion. It shouldn't. They'd been together for a few months now, but he had a theory that as long as he remembered how lucky he was to have her, he would (hopefully) remember not to screw things up too much. It had worked for him so far, anyway.

He put water on to boil, added a little salt, and began making his secret recipe sauce along side it. Once the pasta was in and the sauce was able to be left alone, he opened the fridge and pulled out a few veggies for a side salad. He chopped them efficiently, pausing every now and then to hover over one or other of the pots on the stove. Opening the fridge once more, he selected Kate's favourite vinaigrette to add to the salad, remembering to put it away again before coming back to toss the salad. He pulled out a couple of dinner plates and dished a portion of the salad onto each, covering the rest and hunting a spot for it in the fridge. He then drained the pasta and stirred the sauce through. It wasn't anything overly flash or fancy, but it was good home made food, and just the kind of thing Kate loved coming home to after a long day.

Adding a little garnish to the tops of the salads, he set them at the breakfast bar along with a glass of water next to each. He was just dealing to the pots as Kate hadn't reappeared yet when he heard the knock on the door. He looked back towards the study indecisively, but there was no sign of her magically appearing, so he wiped his hands and hurried over to answer it. His eyebrows shot up as he noticed a woman with his girlfriend's father, and cringed inwardly. So Kate had to face the news of her father's new relationship with the woman actually there? It seemed a little unfair- and more than a little out of character. Still, his job was to be there for Kate, no matter what, and with that in mind he plastered on his most charming smile.

"Jim, good evening! You got here faster than we expected. Come in," he shook Jim's hand warmly, and ushered them both inside.

"Sorry about that, Rick. Traffic was almost non-existent for once, and we were eager to get here. Where's Katie?" Jim released the woman's hand only to unbutton his coat. She seemed taken aback by their host and her surroundings, gaping openly at Castle for a few moments before collecting herself. Castle gestured to her for her coat, sending her a small grin that had her blushing in an instant.

"She'll be out in a moment. It's been a long day, and she wanted to have a quick shower before you got here. Please come sit down. I'm Rick, by the way, Kate's boyfriend," he introduced himself to the woman, pride in his relationship to Kate evident in his tone.

"Rick Castle. Yes, I know. I love your books," she said, shaking his hand warmly. "I'm Johanna."

The smile froze on his face, and all the colour leached out of his cheeks. He looked quickly over at Jim, as if to confirm what he thought he had just heard. Jim smiled wryly.

"You look like I did earlier this evening when she showed up on my door step. Yes, this really is Katie's mother. Turns out she's been alive all this time. Now you can see why I needed to talk to Katie tonight."

Rick nodded dumbly, turning back to the woman whose hand he was still shaking. "Johanna Beckett," he breathed reverently. "Ma'am, I don't know how this is even possible, but it is a tremendous honour to meet you."

"Believe me, Mr. Castle, the feeling is mutual. How on earth do you come to be dating my daughter?" Johanna's eyes glinted with mischief as she disentangled her hand.

"I ask myself that every day," he replied, a slightly faraway look in his eye for just a moment before he smiled at her winningly. She nudged Jim with her elbow.

"I think I like this one," she stage whispered to him. He nodded, his sage expression belied by the merriment dancing behind his eyes.

"Me, too. He's been good for our girl," he replied in a similar tone. Rick's eyebrows shot up into his forehead, and he felt the slightest blush come into his cheeks.

"Please sit down," he gestured to the living room couches. They followed his request this time, sinking into the soft leather seats. "Can I get you anything to drink?" he asked hospitably.

"I think we're fine, thanks, Rick. Please join us. I think it would be better for you to be here when we tell Katie," Jim's voice betrayed his nervousness, and it was then that Rick noticed that both of the senior Becketts seemed to be a little on edge.

"Tell Katie what?" Kate's voice came ahead of her as she came through the study door, dressed casually in jeans and a hoodie, her hair still a little damp from the shower. She smiled at her Dad's guilty expression, before glancing at the woman beside him. Her entire body stiffened in shock, green eyes widening.

"Mom?"


	5. Chapter 4

_"Do you hear that, Fezzik? That is the sound of ultimate suffering. My heart made that sound when the six-fingered man killed my father. The Man in Black makes it now."_

_-Inigo Montoya,_

The Princess Bride

* * *

"_Mom?"_

Kate's voice wavered, the little-girl-lost quality in her voice that was so out of character, Castle was at her side in a heartbeat, searching her face for any sign of what he could do to support her. She reached out a hand, holding his arm as if to steady herself, her eyes glued to her mother.

It was several long seconds before anyone spoke.

Johanna slowly rose from the couch. "Katie?" she finally choked out. "It's me."

Still Kate said nothing, the storm of conflicting emotions taking everything she had within her to keep from bursting into tears on the spot. Finally regaining at least some control of her person, her eyes finally moved from her mother's face to her father's, her expression more that a little bewildered, before flicking back to her mother. There was a hardness in her eyes by the time she brought her gaze back to her mother, and she pressed her lips together as if to keep everything inside.

Suddenly, her eyes filled with tears and she whirled away, back through the study and into the bedroom, leaving three shocked and silent people behind her. Johanna made as if to follow, but Jim caught her arm, preventing her. He met Castle's eyes.

"Tell Katie we still hope to see you tomorrow night," Jim said, gently guiding a devastated-looking Johanna with him towards the door.

"Jim, let me go to her..." Johanna began, but Jim shook his head.

"You won't do her any good tonight, Jo. You know Katie. Rick will take care of her," he answered firmly. Castle simply nodded at him and turned towards the study, leaving them to let themselves out.

* * *

He found her curled up around one of his pillows on his side of the bed, facing away from the door. Her entire person was stiff, curled in on itself. He had a brief mental image of a porcupine with its spikes sticking out, defending itself the only way it knew how. She wasn't sobbing- she wasn't moving at all. Even her lower ribs seemed devoid of movement, where they should be expanding and contracting with her every breath.

Castle stood in the doorway for a long moment, debating his options. Everything within him yearned to curl around her, to bring her comfort- but he wanted to do what she needed, even if that was space. He could do that. He could, if that was what she needed.

The tiniest movement caught his eye from the still figure on the bed. Her finger. Just one finger reaching up and swiping a tear away, the quickest flick before settling back into stillness.

He was across the room in a heartbeat, crawling across the bed and curling around her, his large frame dwarfing hers.

Finally, she broke.

* * *

It was like she was floating. She felt no connection to her body, to the bed she had crawled to. No connection to her life.

Who is Kate Beckett, after all?

The storm of emotions suddenly stopped as she laid there, curled around the pillow she had picked up automatically.

This wasn't real.

None of it was real.

She was just lying in bed after a long day at work. That's all.

Taking a deep breath in, her senses were filled with that unique aroma of his that she had come to crave. Something beyond his shampoo and cologne and fabric softener, something so entirely him that it made her head fuzzy, her heart crack open. Something that anchored her back to reality.

Reality.

Was it real? Was her mother really, this moment, sitting in Castle's living room?

It was a dream. It had to be a dream.

It had to be.

She was dead, dammit. She had been dead for fourteen years.

She was dead, and Kate had become a cop to honor her memory, to find her justice.

She was dead, and Kate had finally learned to live again, thanks to the man whose pillow she currently had her nose buried in.

She was dead.

She was dead.

She was dead.

So why was she looking so very alive?

Kate had spent many nights over the past fourteen years curled up just like this, longing for one more glimpse, one more conversation with her mother. Every time she did anything note worthy, she longed to be able to pick up the phone and tell her mom. Throughout all her confusion over her relationship with Castle, she had so desperately wanted to curl up in her mother's arms on the couch and just tell her everything- to hear what Johanna had to say about it all.

Then she found her mother sitting on Castle's couch next to her father as if everything she had been through in the last fourteen years was completely meaningless. As if it were normal. As if was _real_.

Now she had nothing to stand on, nothing to tell her what was real and what wasn't, no one to tell her who she was if Johanna Beckett had not been murdered after all.

Suddenly, she became aware of a presence behind her- someone who had been in the room a few moments already, but whose breathing she had become attuned to. Whose scent filled her and surrounded her as she sought comfort in his pillow, on his bed.

When had Castle replaced her mother as the anchor in her life? When had she come to need him this fiercely? And why was he hovering in the doorway still, when she so desperately needed him to be here with her, reassuring her as only he could? She needed him _here_!

A single tear escaped her eye, rolling uncomfortably across her cheek towards her nose. She reached up a finger and flicked it away.

A shuffle over the floorboards was her only warning before the bed dipped behind her and a warm, solid strength surrounded her, bending and curling until he enveloped her completely, cradling her to him.

A feeling of complete and total safety filled her. A feeling she had thought would never exist again after the events that took her mother from her fourteen years ago.

Something deep within her cracked open, and everything began spilling out. Her shoulders heaved as enormous sobs wracked her whole body. Tears soaked the pillow as she cried, wave after wave, shaking grief from the very depths of her soul.

The woman she had built out of the devastated shell of a nineteen year old crumbled into rubble, making way for a new Kate Beckett to rise.

And through it all, he held her, caressed her, comforted her. Murmuring soothing nothings into her ears, curling around her to protect her from the world in this, her most vulnerable moment.

The storm ceased almost as suddenly as it started, the aftershocks of her emotion the only evidence that it ever happened, the occasional catch of her breath shaking her frame as she calmed.

They stayed there for a long time, neither moving or speaking, simply lying curled up in one another, feeling each other's chests expanding and contracting with every breath.

Eventually, she turned to face him. He shifted to accommodate her, their legs tangling and their arms wrapping around one another. He reached up a hand and pulled another pillow under his head, while she snuggled down until she could lay her head on his shoulder, angling herself so she could comfortably see his face.

When they were settled again, he lifted one hand to stroke her cheek, reveling in the softness of her flushed skin under his finger tips, tracing the drying tear tracks over and over, brushing her hair gently back from her face. She watched him watch her, trying to assimilate everything she had just learned.

Her mother was alive.

Her mother was no longer the center of her world. Rick Castle was.

These two truths had rocked her to her very foundations. Sure, when she had shown up at his door soaking wet and just wanting him, she had known she was choosing him over finding justice for her mother. She knew that he knew it was the most potent and powerful way she had of expressing to him that she was in love with him, an even stronger expression than the three little words she had yet to say to him. But choosing him over justice for her mother and realizing that even with her mother still alive, he was still the center of her universe- that he had replaced her mother as her rock, her anchor- this was a very different thing.

His fingertips traced her cheekbones, her jaw, and she smiled into his touch, her heart suddenly overwhelmed, flowing over with love for this man who cherished her, who held her together even as her world fell apart. What had she ever done to deserve him? She had pushed him away repeatedly, held him at arms length, lied to him, refused to act on her attraction to him for four years- and he had faithfully returned, again and again, standing by her and with her and for her, never letting go of his dream of getting to be with her. And now, finally, here they were.

He paused his hypnotic stroking, breath hitching.

"What?" she smiled at him.

"You," he breathed. "You have the most beautiful look of wonder on your face," he whispered reverently.

She bit her lip, suddenly shy. "I was just thinking about how incredible you are- wondering how you became everything?" she finally responded. His eyes filled with awe, and he suddenly swooped forward, pressing his lips to hers, demanding immediate entrance, his mouth swift and devastating. She opened to him without resistance, allowing him to carry her on the tide of his emotion, rejoicing in the freedom of loving and being loved completely.

When the demand for oxygen became overwhelming, he rested his forehead against hers and sighed contentedly. She smiled at him, before a thought occurred to her.

"Castle, are my parents..." her voice trailed off.

"They went home. Your dad still wants us to come for dinner tomorrow, though," he said quietly. She nodded.

"That's good. That... that gives me time to recover," she said, closing her eyes for a moment, her eyelashes sweeping her cheeks. "Castle, did that really happen? Was that really my M- was it really her?"

He waited for her to look at him. "Yes, it was," he said, holding her gaze. She let out a deep breath.

"Do you know how..." she began, but he shook his head.

"Your dad said something about her turning up on his doorstep tonight. Beyond that, I don't know much more than you do."

She nodded, biting her lip, deep in thought. He waited her out, his hands taking the opportunity to find the skin under her tank top and begin stroking her back lightly.

"I think we should have dinner at my place tomorrow," she said suddenly. His fingers stopped their ministrations in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up in question. "I want the home field advantage. Plus it has the box with everything we have on my Mom's case there."

After her showdown with Bracken all those months ago, he had helped her take down the murder board off the shutters in her study. They had put everything neatly in a box, and stored it in the back of her wardrobe, not wanting to destroy any of their hard-won evidence _just in case_, but needing to symbolically remove it from its prime location in her apartment.

"And you want her to fill in the missing pieces," he nodded his understanding.

"I just need to know _why_. Why, after all this time, she's come back, and why the hell she let us think she's been gone for so long."

"I know. There's a story there, we just need to let her tell it," he said soothingly. She drew back from him a little, glaring at him.

"Don't do that. Don't try to soothe me. Castle, my Mom is back from the dead. I've been through hell and back over the past fourteen years. It damaged me. Permanently. It made me change my entire life's plan. It brought me to the edge of drowning in obsession on multiple occasions. It kept me from having a relationship with you, over and over again. And all of a sudden she's alive, and you're acting like I don't have a right to be mad at her for it!"

"Hey, I never said that. I'm sorry if I sounded condescending. I just think you need to hear her out before you explode at her," he tugged her back towards her, kissing her so she would know he wasn't attacking her personally. She resisted for a moment before finally melting into him, sinking back into his warmth, enjoying the lazy taste of him. This time, it was only when her stomach gurgled that they broke apart. He huffed a laugh into her hair, rolling her off him so he could stand up, and held a hand out to her.

"There's some cold pasta served up and ready to go on the counter. I'd just plated up when your parents showed up."

She took his hand and used it to gracefully stand in one smooth motion. "Sounds perfect," she said, leaning in to kiss his jaw before sauntering away before him out towards their neglected meals.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Not sure if she remembers this, but there is a line in this chapter from a Twitter conversation I had with purpl_angel, who cheered me up on a particularly bad day. This chapter is dedicated to her for being incredibly supportive and always lovely :-)**

* * *

"_Is __very __strange. __I __have __been __in __the __revenge __business __so __long, __now __that __it's __over, __I __don't __know __what __to __do __with __the __rest __of __my __life.__" __-Inigo __Montoya  
__"__Have __you __ever __considered __piracy? __You'd __make __a __wonderful __Dread __Pirate __Roberts.__" __-Westley,_

The Princess Bride.

* * *

The cab ride back was quiet. Johanna spent most of the trip staring out the window. She knew when she chose to come back to life that it wasn't going to be easy, but Jim's relatively fast acceptance of her existence had lulled her into a false sense of security. She had forgotten that Katie was the true wild card in the situation. Jim was always going to forgive her. She had counted on that. Katie, on the other hand, was such a startling combination of Jim's immovable strength and her own fiery passion, she was bound to be the difficult one in any unusual situation.

She closed her eyes, struck once again by the image of her beautiful daughter so poised and confident and grown up. The Katie that she had kept in her mind throughout her exile was the homesick, slightly awkward nineteen year old wild child with secretly nerdy tendencies, still struggling to find her place in this world. Johanna had known intellectually that her baby would have grown up, but it had knocked the breath out of her to see it with her own eyes. It wasn't that Kate was taller, or had filled out all that much, it had to do with the way she carried herself. She no longer needed to cuddle with her mother in order to keep the monsters at bay- she now hunted the monsters fearlessly. She had found her niche in the world, and had turned out every bit as beautiful and dignified as Johanna had predicted she would be all those years ago, when Katie was a tiny bundle being rocked to sleep. That didn't make reconciling the two images of her daughter in her mind any easier, though.

Jim, for his part, was berating himself silently. Once the initial storm of emotions had passed, he had been eager to share the news with his daughter and hadn't thought to prepare her with anything more than a cryptic phone call. Maybe he should have given her the news over the phone, and allowed her the time it took for he and Jo to arrive to adjust to the idea. Katie had always hated surprises. It took away from her ability to control the situation.

It broke Jim's heart to see his daughter's shock and pain when she processed her mother sitting there. Worse was the feeling of being torn in two, as he so desperately wanted to comfort both of them, yet Katie couldn't handle being in the same room as Johanna in that moment. He had never been more grateful to Rick for stepping up and reassuring him with little more than a look that Katie would be taken care of. Still, it never stopped his heart from aching as he watched another man take first place in his daughter's life, no matter how deserving that man might be. He wished so badly he could be the one to bring his daughter comfort, but in that moment Johanna had needed him more. He felt like he had once again failed Kate by not being there for her, just like he had done in the years following Johanna's murder as he drowned in a bottle and cursed all who stood in his way.

It wasn't until he let them back into the apartment and automatically held out his hand for her coat that she spoke, turning to him with an apologetic look.

"I should probably grab my bag and get going," she said, not quite meeting his eyes.

He stared at her blankly. "You're not staying?"

She shook her head. "I shouldn't. It's awfully late, and clearly I've already been an enormous inconvenience, and..."

"Woah, hold up there. Where's all this coming from, Jo?" he placed his hands on her shoulders and waited for her to make eye contact. When she did, he could see hundreds of emotions tumbling through her eyes.

"She couldn't even stand to be in the same room as me," she whispered. He drew her into his arms, resting his chin on the crown of her head.

"And you think I suddenly feel the same way?"

"I wouldn't blame you," she responded. He pulled back to look her in the eye.

"If you think I'm letting you walk out that door tonight to go find some seedy motel to stay in just because Katie was surprised to see you, you can think again, Johanna Beckett," he said firmly, stroking her cheek with his knuckles before bringing her into his embrace once again, his tone changing into something more business like. "Now, we have several options for your accommodation. There's the bed in Katie's old room- I've made it my study now, and it's got some files and things spread across it, but it won't take a moment to pack those away and make up the bed. There's the fold out couch in the living room; once again, we just need to make it up. Or..." here his voice trailed off rather suddenly, and he coughed awkwardly. She drew back to look up at him, only to find his cheeks doing a fine job of imitating the color of tomatoes, and his eyes trained on the ceiling.

"Or I could come in with you. Is that what you were going to say?" she asked, eyes dancing at his discomfort. He cleared his throat twice before he was able to meet her eyes sheepishly.

"I didn't want to make any assumptions. You probably need time, still, and I didn't want to pressure you into anything you weren't ready for..."

"James Beckett, I have been dreaming of waking up in your arms for fourteen years. You really think I'm going to settle for the fold out couch now?" she demanded, amusement and annoyance coming through in equal measures. He blinked, opening and closing his mouth a few times, completely at a loss, although his arms tightened around her waist without his permission. She reached up and combed her fingers through his hair, unable to stop herself from leaning up and taking advantage of his slack jawed expression. When their lips separated, she still held him close, bumping his nose with her own.

"Do you want me in your bed tonight?" she whispered.

"Yes," he breathed.

"Then that's where I'm staying," she brushed her mouth across his once more, before stepping back out of his arms, holding eye contact with him as she unbuttoned her coat and handed it to him. He hung it in the closet quickly, then walked past her to the living room and picked up the carpet bag she had dropped earlier.

Turning to her, he held out his free hand and brought it to his lips before gently leading her to what was finally, once again, their room.

* * *

Kate woke up early the next morning.

Really early.

Her sleep had been restless, coloured with dreams in which she had re-lived some of the worst moments of her life, only with her mother standing off to the side and laughing manically whenever Kate was most in need of help or comfort. She had woken several times throughout the night, her active mind making it harder and harder to get back to sleep. Eventually, she gave up trying altogether, easing herself out from under Castle's arm which he had flung over her in his sleep. His face was mashed into his pillow, his hair sticking up in unusual directions, completely relaxed. She brushed a kiss to his brow, watching him affectionately for a few moments before heading for the shower.

Starting her morning routine almost a full hour earlier than normal, she almost regretted not simply using the extra time to wake Castle and give him a "good morning" he would remember throughout the day, but she shook off the impulse. She needed to get down to the station and focus on work rather than her mother's sudden resurrection and reappearance. After all, there was nothing like investigating a murder to help one focus on reality.

Dressing quietly so as not to wake her sleeping partner, she did her make up quickly in the en suite bathroom before picking up her boots and carrying them through the study towards the spacious living area, dropping them next to the couch. She made herself coffee and toast, consuming them quickly before ensuring she had her badge and gun. Doing up her boots, she grabbed her coat, and slipped out of the loft like a ghost.

* * *

One thing she had to hand to Gates as she stepped off the elevator at the 12th shortly before 7am was that the woman was dedicated to her job. Often when she had big meetings down at 1PP, she came in early to get her other admin done, often rivaling Kate as the precinct's early starter. Kate was just firing up her computer when she heard her captain calling her.

"Detective Beckett, a moment please."

Kate stood immediately and moved quickly to Gates' open door. The captain put her pen down and waved the Detective in.

"Your warrant came through ten minutes ago. Seems Markaway is up early this morning, too," Gates said in her usual clipped, even tone, handing Beckett the document in question.

"Thank you, Sir," Kate turned to leave, but the older woman's voice stopped her.

"Detective, when was the last time you caught the evening news?" Gates asked her abruptly. Kate stopped in her tracks, turning to her boss, wide eyed.

"Sir?"

"The news. When was the last time you watched it?" Gates repeated patiently.

"Not for a couple of weeks, I guess..."

"What about newspapers? Internet news sites? Twitter?" Gates prodded. Kate shook her head. Gates nodded and stood, crossing to her filing cabinet, on top of which, uncharacteristically, was a newspaper. "That's what I thought. Here, have a look," she picked up the paper that was dated a few days ago, and handed it to the Detective.

Beckett gasped when she saw the headline, and sat heavily. The bold print read: "PRESIDENTIAL HOPEFUL ARRESTED" with the sub heading "Senator facing multiple charges of conspiracy and murder". A full, colorful photo of Senator Bracken being led away in handcuffs adorned most of the page, and Kate devoured the article which named her own attempted shooting among the long list of victims and charges.

Her mother's name was listed with hers under "attempted murder".

When she was finished, she looked up at the Captain, bewildered.

"Sir?"

Gates had taken her seat while Kate was reading, and leaned back in her chair, regarding the Detective thoughtfully. "I'm guessing that there's a reason your mother isn't listed under the murder charges?" the older woman finally asked.

Kate nodded dumbly

"Are you going to share with the class?" Gates raised her eyebrow, waving two fingers to encourage her to talk.

Kate swallowed nervously. "I... it turns out my mother has been alive all this time."

"And how did you come by this information?"

"She showed up on my father's door step yesterday, and he brought her around to see me," Kate's voice only gave the smallest tremble; her tone was even. Gates narrowed her eyes, her gaze penetrating. Kate held eye contact steadily, refusing to back down in spite of all the emotional bruising she had received over the past 12 hours.

"I see," the Captain eventually nodded. "Well, Detective, it seems the case that keeps on giving is finally over- for good this time. Does this mean we'll be able to focus on the cases in front of us now?"

"That's the plan, Sir," Kate replied evenly.

"And the warrant that came through this morning?" Gates questioned.

"It's for the brother's apartment. We're hoping at the very least to match the DNA. It will give us enough to bring him in, any way," Kate responded, surprised by how accustomed she was now to the Captain's need to be kept in the loop with every case. Gates nodded crisply, and Kate could have sworn the lines around her mouth were softer than usual.

"Get it done, Detective."

* * *

She called Esposito from the elevator, instructing him to call Ryan and meet her at the suspect's address, before hitting her favorite speed dial number.

"Business or pleasure?" the deep rumble of his voice made her shiver, and she found herself grinning into the phone.

"I'm not sure you're awake enough for pleasure, Castle," she teased, biting her lip as she conjured up the image of the way she had left him sprawled in bed that morning.

"We both know that's not true," he said suggestively. Damn. She had made the mistake of revealling what that tone of voice did to her. She bit her lip, got down to business a little too abruptly.

"Warrant came through. Am I picking you up?" She asked him as she slid into the driver's seat of the crown vic she had left in the precinct garage the night before. She heard a slight shuffle, and knew he was fighting the covers in order to sit up.

"I'm in. See you downstairs in fifteen?" His voice held a softness he reserved for her alone.

"Could be longer in this traffic," she warned.

"I'll be waiting. See you soon," there was nothing affectionate in the words, but the way he spoke made her wonder if he hadn't just crushed her to him in a heated embrace.

* * *

An initial search of the suspect's apartment revealed a blood splattered shirt soaking in bleach in a bucket, giving them them enough evidence to officially make the arrest. Beckett and Castle took the suspect in, leaving Ryan and Esposito to wait for the techs and continue looking for the weapon. As Kate had predicted the night before, it wasn't long before the brother confessed, and by late morning she was at her desk. In spite of the confession and wrapping up the case, the amount of paperwork she had to get through as a result could have been responsible for a small rainforest. By early afternoon, she was a seething mass of irritation.

She wanted to burn all her reports. With fire.

Castle stuck faithfully by her side, doing his best to keep out of her way and make her smile as often as he could. It was a fine line, one he was slowly learning to master, and she was grateful for the levity he brought to the otherwise endless afternoon.

Unfortunately, it was not to last. Castle's phone broke the silence, the Imperial March filling the bull pen. He excused himself, slipping away to the break room to take the call. He returned almost fifteen minutes later, hair askew in a manner she knew was from him running his hands through it in frustration, and he looked at her apologetically. It took all her willpower not to reach out and straighten it for him.

"Paula," he said in explanation, dropping into his seat heavily. "She respectfully requests my presence in a meeting this afternoon. And by respectfully requests, of course..."

"She threatened you?" Kate raised an eyebrow at him.

"My manhood. With a rusty spoon," he replied, making puppy dog eyes at her, playing it up for sympathy. Kate bit her lip to prevent herself from laughing out loud.

"We can't have that now, can we?" she said.

He leaned forward an elbow on the corner of her desk, dropping his voice to a whisper. "I have reason to suspect my girlfriend might be disappointed if it came to that eventuality."

"I imagine she would," replied Kate at a similar volume. "You still coming to dinner with the folks?"

"Of course." He reluctantly stood, picked up his coat, and headed out, pausing to banter with the guys on the way past. Kate settled back into paperwork, and apparently he didn't look in her direction again, but her phone buzzed with an incoming text about three seconds after the elevator doors closed behind him.

_You're the only person allowed near my manhood. And no spoons._

She sent her reply at lightning speed.

_But I like spooning with you_.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was tedious without Castle there. Even when he was just sitting playing on his phone, something about his presence at her side kept her calm and helped her to focus on her task, and today of all days she really needed that. Paperwork wasn't nearly enough to keep her mind from the events of the previous night, and the more she tried not to think about it, the worse it got.

She just wanted to talk to her mom, talk to her and find out what the hell was going on. It was the not knowing that was eating at her. How could her mother just show up again out of the blue? What explanation did she have?

She kept working, though, forcing herself to concentrate as she filled in form after form. Esposito stopped by her desk shortly before 3pm.

"Yo, Beckett, you ok? You seem a bit distracted."

"Yeah, I just... I need to have a conversation with someone after work, and it's bugging me that I have to wait til then," she confided, leaning back in her chair to stretch her muscles.

"Need me to cover for you?" he asked casually. She lets out a sigh of relief.

"Would you?"

He grinned. "Of course. But you owe me!"

She smiled, and began gathering her things. "I sure do. Thanks, Espo!"

"No problem. Get outta here," he said, and moments later, she was gone.


	7. Chapter 6

"_You mock my pain." -Buttercup  
__**"**__Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something."-The Man in Black _

The Princess Bride

* * *

Kate took a moment to straighten her slim shoulders, steeling herself.

She could do it.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her fist and rapped on the door.

Footsteps shuffled over floorboards, and a moment later the deadbolt turned, revealing Johanna dressed casually in jeans and a soft green sweater, light from the apartment spilling out around her into the corridor. Kate felt her breath catch in her throat. Her mom really was here.

"Katie," Johanna's face lit up with surprise and delight as she held the door wide. "I wasn't expecting you. Come on in."

Kate entered, striding purposefully into the living room. Johanna shut the door and followed more slowly, pausing next to the breakfast bar. The two Beckett women took a long, quiet moment to simply look at each other, noting all the differences and similarities a fourteen year separation had caused.

"You're so beautiful," Johanna whispered, suspiciously misty eyed.

Kate tucked a strand of hair behind her ear self consciously, and cleared her throat. "You are, too," she spoke at last.

Johanna took a deep breath to collect herself. "Coffee?"

Kate nodded. "Sure."

Johanna moved into the kitchen, hands shaking slightly as she went about fixing the coffee. Kate slid awkwardly onto a bar stool at the counter, watching her mother. Jo glanced over her shoulder at her daughter. "Why am I having flashbacks of you informing me you were going to start saving your allowance for a motor bike?"

Kate bit back a laugh at the memory. "You were so mad. It was the only time I'd ever seen you so angry you walked out of the room without arguing the point."

"It didn't stop you from going through with it. Always so stubborn and independent," Johanna's eye danced as she set the mug down in front of her daughter. "Sugar?"

"No thanks. This is fine."

"Just like mine," Johanna noted. A shy smile tugged at the corner of her daughter's mouth, and she couldn't help but respond with one of her own.

"I sometimes wondered if I was ever going to turn out anything like you," Kate admitted softly, eyes fixed on the mug she was twisting in her hands. Johanna felt herself practically melt at the sight.

"Sweetie, if there's one thing your father kept saying to me last night on the way over in the cab, it was how proud he was of you for managing to be both a mirror image of me and a unique, strong, beautiful woman in your own right."

Kate glanced up at her from under her eyelashes, then returned her gaze steadily to her mug. "Well, I had to grow up pretty fast after you... once you were gone."

"I'm so sorry, Katie. I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how sorry I am. Not just for putting you through it all, but for not being able to be there for you."

"Where were you, Mom?" Kate finally asked softly, looking up at her with fourteen years of hurt reflecting in her eyes.

Johanna answered evenly, knowing her daughter needed straight answers. "Witness protection. We faked my death in a gamble to draw out Bracken, but it didn't work."

"We?" Kate was rapidly switching into interrogation mode, all part of her emotional armor.

"The team was headed up by Special Agent Andrew Johnson of the FBI."

"The FBI?" Kate asked, surprised.

"Andy was Bob Armand's partner," Johanna replied.

Kate took a moment to digest this.

"Katie, Special Agent Johnson has been working on this case since his partner was murdered," her mother informed her gently. Kate's eyes flew up to meet her mother's, ever wounded by the idea of anyone stepping in on the case she had always viewed as hers and hers alone.

"Then why didn't he bring down Bracken years ago?"

"Because William Bracken is a brilliant politician and a very cautious man. It took Andy years to track down the three cops who were responsible and figure out who extorted their gains. By then, Bracken was too powerful to touch without very solid evidence, and the few people willing to talk were beginning to turn up dead. Present company included," she finished with a whimsical gesture to herself.

"So what have you been doing for the past fourteen years?" Kate pressed.

Johanna sighed. "I did my share of moving from place to place, especially near the start. Andy- Special Agent Johnson- took the cautious approach when people started turning up dead. He trusted very few people with details of his investigation, which eventually was what convinced him to let me come on board as a consultant. He knew I already knew about the case, and he knew I wasn't going to be bought off by Bracken, because Bracken didn't know I was still alive. Being a lawyer meant I was able to help wade through documents and assist with the administrative side of the investigation- which, as you're aware, can be tedious and time consuming. It wasn't until about three years ago that we were able to start making real headway into the case."

"What happened three years ago?" Kate asked, conversational but still in cop mode. Johanna suppressed a grin.

"A smart, savvy, beautiful New York Police Detective and this writer who was shadowing her began investigating the case. They drew Bracken's attention away, and he started doing his old tricks to try to stop them, especially since he was finally in a position to be angling himself as a potential Presidential hopeful in a few years. With his eyes on New York, he started making some mistakes in Washington, and he stopped paying as close attention to his not-so-legal interests there. We were able to use that to our advantage, and then earlier this week we finally found the last piece of concrete evidence we needed, and we were able to get him."

Kate stood abruptly, pacing across the living room and halfway back again. She pressed her lips together, swallowing in an attempt to gain control of her rapidly rising emotions. "You knew? All this time, you knew I was investigating, and you did nothing about it?"

Johanna straightened up and came around the bench, stung by the accusation. "What do you mean, did nothing? I spent the last fourteen years working harder than I ever have in my life, so that I could come home to you."

Kate's carefully constructed cop mask slid away completely, leaving the wounded daughter naked and needy. "I didn't need your investigation, Mom. I needed my mother, and she wasn't there, and I didn't know why. Do you know what your death did to me, Mom? Did Dad tell you what it did to him? He started drinking. Did you know that? That he became an alcoholic, because he couldn't handle the pain of his wife's murder. Do you know what it's like to come home to find your father passed out, drunk, night after night? To watch as he lost his job, his friends, his dignity... to have to clean up after him when he was too far gone to make it to the bathroom in time. Or to have him break promise after promise after promise until I couldn't believe a word he said to me," Kate's eyes were bright with tears, but so far none had fallen. Johanna was openly weeping in the face of dreadful toll her actions had taken on her family.

"He said something about that when I got home last night, but he didn't go into detail," she began to defend herself, but Kate spoke over her, building her case against her, stacking the evidence piece by piece.

"And then there was me... I was 19 years old, and overnight my Mom was dead and my Dad disappeared into a bottle. I had no one. I was so angry that you'd been taken from me, and I had no one to blame. I was alone. And then the Detective in charge of your case came back and told me it was random gang violence, that there was no reason for your death, and no chance of finding the person responsible. I had no support and no answers. No way I could find out the truth," tears were streaming freely down her face, but she ignored them.

"Katie," Johanna made a movement as if wanting to reach out and comfort her, but Kate backed away. The dam had broken, and everything was coming out.

"I became a cop because of this case. Did you know that? I was meant to be a lawyer, have a safe, cushy desk job, but I needed answers too badly. Do you know how many times I nearly died because of this case? I got shot, Mom. A sniper bullet ripped through my chest. I flat lined on the operating table. I got thrown off the side of a building. And that was just physically. I've been through therapy twice trying to let this case go. I've been through PTSD, and still don't know if I've completely recovered. And then there's the effect this had on my relationships... I built a wall around myself so I wouldn't let anyone in, because when you died, everyone else left, too. I stopped being able to trust anyone. And in the end, the only person who did worm their way in was Castle, and I've nearly lost him on more than one occasion, because solving your case was worth more to me than my own happiness- or his. And just when I put it all behind me and finally choose to live again, you come waltzing back home as if you were never gone in the first place!"

"Katie, I never meant for you to chase after this. It was my battle, not yours. I wanted you to live your life," Johanna said firmly.

Kate shook her head. "I couldn't. Not when I didn't know why. Not when the least I could do was investigate other murders, give other families answers where I had none."

"And you've done a fine job of it..." began Johanna, but Kate cut her off.

"No, you don't get to do that. You don't get to pat me on the head and tell me I've been a good girl. You left us!"

"How dare you!" It was barely louder than a whisper, but Johanna's tone was thunderous and increased in volume rapidly. "Do you think it was easy for me? Do you think I enjoyed having to choose between my family and their safety? Do you think I haven't been dreaming of coming home for fourteen years, that I haven't been living with my own death on my conscience all this time?"

"Then why didn't you?" Kate demanded.

"Because they told me that if I didn't stop, they'd come after you! I would give my life to protect you and your father, Katie, and that's exactly what I was doing for fourteen years. I thought about you and Jim every single day. Every day. Do you know how agonizing it is to be in love with someone who thinks you're dead? For all I knew, he could have remarried- he would have been well within his rights. Not to mention being separated from you- all the things I missed in your life. Do you really think I would have done this if I felt I had any other choice?" Johanna pleaded

Kate looked at her for a long moment. "You used to tell me there's always a choice," she said pointedly.

"I was keeping you safe," Johanna began, but Kate cut her off with a scoff.

"Safe?! Did you miss the part of the conversation a moment ago when I told you I'd been shot?!"

"Katie.." Johanna reached out towards her again, pleading, but Kate glared at her witheringly.

"No! You're the one who abandoned us. You're the one who left," she insisted.

"I came back as soon as I felt I could," Johanna replied in a small voice, the fight oozing out of her.

"Yeah? Well you're fourteen years too late," Kate spat out, brushing past her mother and heading for the door.

Before she could reach it, a key turned in the lock and the door opened, revealing Jim.

"Katie?" he stopped short at the sight of his daughter.

She didn't turn as her mother exclaimed, "Jim! What are you doing home so early?"

"After yesterday, I figured it would be a good idea..." his voice trailed off as he picked up on the tension in the room. "What's going on?"

"I was just leaving," Kate said a little too pointedly, moving past him to the door.

"Wait... are we still on for dinner?" he asked, glancing back and forth between them as if watching a tennis match.

Kate looked past him at Johanna. "I'll let you know in fourteen years," she said, and strode off down the corridor.

"What happened?" Jim asked quietly once he had shut the door behind his rapidly disappearing daughter.

Johanna sighed, her posture hunched, screaming of weariness and defeat. She turned back into the living room, sank into the sofa, and threw an arm across her face. Jim followed more slowly, putting his keys and phone on the table, shucking his coat and hanging it up, and stowing his briefcase in the entryway closet. When he had finished his home from work ritual, he lowered himself onto the sofa next to her, and waited patiently for her to speak.

Finally, Johanna's arm dropped, and she tilted her head towards him from where it rested against the back of the sofa. "I don't know, Jim. She came over to see me. To see if I was real, I guess. Then we got talking, and she asked where I'd been and... next thing I know, we're yelling at each other and you come home and she storms out."

He nodded, steepling his fingers. "What did you yell about?" he asked gently.

"She blamed me for leaving you both. For how you both reacted after it happened," she replied.

Jim swallowed, shifted so that he was leaning his elbows on his knees, suddenly studying the breakfast bar across the room. "Did she tell you about my... problem?" he asked quietly, shame staining his cheeks slightly.

Johanna nodded, and although he wasn't looking at her, he knew her lack of verbal response was confirmation in itself. He ran a hand through his hair and stood up, pacing the room in the same way his daughter had earlier in the afternoon.

"I'm so sorry I put you through that, Jim," she said quietly.

He turned to face her suddenly, eyes blazing with a fire she had rarely seen in him. "It wasn't you, Jo. You couldn't have known. You did what you had to to keep your family safe. You made the hard choice. The drinking- that was all on me. Deserting Katie while she was grieving- that was me. Don't you dare take it on yourself! It was all me. I should have been stronger," he sank into a nearby chair, "but I wasn't."

His voice was so filled with self loathing, she was off the sofa and across the room in an instant, dropping to her knees before him so she could embrace him. "You're not a failure, Jim. You're not. You've battled your demons, yes, but you won. You're stronger now."

He gathered her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he could. "Don't worry about Katie, Jo. She'll come around eventually. You know she will. She just needs to find her own way, that's all. She's as independent as her mother."

"And as immovable as her father," Johanna fired back, grinning into his shoulder as their old, familiar banter washed over her. She sighed then, a frown creasing her forehead. "I hope you're right, Jim. I really hope you're right."


	8. Chapter 7

"_...So __bow __to __her __if __you __want. __Bow __to __her. __Bow __to __the __Queen __of__ Slime__.__The __Queen __of__ Filth__. __The __Queen __of__ P__utrescence. __Boo! __Boo!__" _

_-The __Ancient __Booer,_ The Princess Bride.

* * *

By the time Kate got into her car, peak traffic had hit and the usually twenty minute drive to Kate's apartment took almost three times that. She didn't mind too much, though. The constant stop-start nature of the flow of the vehicles around her gave her something to focus on, something to vent her swirling emotions into. Her anger dissipated as she drove, leaving room for a heaviness in her gut that she somehow didn't want to analyze too deeply.

It wasn't until she was home and shrugging off her coat and looking around her empty apartment that she finally allowed the events of the day to hit her fully. Never in the last fourteen years had she doubted the certainty that her mother was dead. People died every day- a part of life, really. Children buried their parents. Yes, Johanna had been young when she had been torn from her husband and daughter, and while Kate had longed for years to have the chance to see her again, she had never had any reason to truly prepare herself for the reality of it actually happening. Certainly, she had never imagined her mother's reappearance would make her this angry.

And now she was here, alone in her apartment, and it felt like the walls were closing in on her. She had spent the last couple of nights at Castle's place, and now that she thought about it, it had been over a week since she and her partner had spent a night apart. Kate squeezed her eyes shut, blaming her foul mood for the way that she freely and colorfully mentally cursed Castle for yet again squeezing into some of the deepest recesses of her private life and filling it so full of himself that it would be impossible to untangle him from her. Secretly, she loved that about him, but when it came to her closely guarded personal space- especially after having an argument with her recently resurrected mother- he was an awfully convenient person to take things out on, even if he wasn't physically present in that moment.

She headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge, glaring at the contents without really seeing them until a decided unpleasant aroma hit her nostrils. She choked, took a step back, and then shrugged to herself. It needed dealing with, and now was as good a time as any. Taking a deep breath, she investigated until she found the cause of the smell in an old box of take out of the second-to-bottom shelf. She threw it away, and then took the trash out. Returning, she headed into her room and changed into some old jeans and a maroon t-shirt with a band logo on it and headed back to the kitchen, pulling cleaning supplies out from under the sink. She then put the sundry jars and other assorted contents of the fridge out onto the counter, and got to work methodically wiping out every shelf and crevice therein.

The knock came when she was about half way through this task. Pulling off the blue rubber gloves she used for cleaning, she checked to see who it was before yanking open the door violently and glowering at the person on the other side.

"H-woah! W-what'd I do?" Castle cowered back into the corridor comically. She gave him one more glare before turning on her heel and heading back into her kitchen, leaving the door open for him to come in or go as he chose. Of course he followed her in, shutting the door and automatically turning the lock behind him. When he reached the kitchen, she was on her knees again, upper body almost lost into the refrigerator, scrubbing at the shelves vigorously. He watched her for a long moment as if weighing his options, before silently picking up the second pair of rubber gloves- the pink ones- and another cleaning solution, opening the oven door at the opposite end of room, and going to work.

Kate made quick work of the remaining shelves, and it wasn't long before she leaned back and stripped off her gloves again. The sound of scrubbing finally caught up with her, and she turned to see her boyfriend's back end and one arm hanging out of the oven. In spite of her mood, a warm feeling uncoiled itself in her stomach, moving slowly up into her chest as she caught sight of him balancing himself with one pink gloved hand. He must have heard her lack of movement, because it wasn't long before he backed his upper body out and turned to face her where she was, sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor in front of the open fridge, surrounded by cleaning products. His eyes softened as he watched her watching him, and she couldn't help the almost smile that fluttered around the corners of her mouth.

He turned back to the oven, made quick work of finishing whatever it was that he'd been doing there, before throwing his small pile of grimy, used paper towels into the trash and stripping of the grease-smeared pink gloves. She stood, gathering her cleaning products and putting them back under the sink, and rinsed out her used rag. Picking up the first few items to replace them in the refrigerator, she turned back to collect more, only to find him standing beside her, in his hands a jar each of mustard and mayonnaise. She smiled at him and took them from him, deliberately brushing her fingers over his. They continued on without a word, him handing her items to put back in the fridge, exchanging lingering touches and longing looks.

When the job was finally done, she shut the fridge and turned to him, hesitating only a moment before walking into his arms. He wrapped them around her tightly and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, taking a moment to breath her in as she buried her face into his shoulder, hands fisting into the back of his shirt, almost certainly creasing it. He didn't seem to mind, though, and they stood there for a long time, simply enjoying being wrapped around one another.

Finally, she leaned back in his arms so she could study his face. She could tell he was determined to not be the one to break the silence, for once, but he was near breaking point. He raised an eyebrow at her, settling for asking without asking. She lifted one hand to cup his cheek, smoothing her fingers along his jaw, brushing her thumb lightly under his eye.

"I don't deserve you," she murmured, more to herself than to him. His response was immediate, dropping his arms from around her waist so he could frame her face with his hands, looking into her eyes with reproach and wonder and love.

"Kate, no. Never," he tugged her back into him, one hand sliding down to her waist again while the other cradled her head, weaving into her hair. "It's the opposite, I promise you. How can you even think that?" he crooned, rocking her gently.

She smoothed her hand across his shoulder blade, turning her head so she could plant a kiss on his collar bone through the cotton of his shirt. She tugged back slightly so she could look at him again, smiling as he gently stroked her cheek. Lifting one hand to play with his top button, she dropped her eyes to his chest.

"I went over to Dad's place this afternoon, to see Mom," she said, still hesitating over speaking about her mother in the present tense. Castle brushed his thumb across her cheek.

"And what does that have to do with this nonsense about you not deserving me?" his eyes crinkled into that special smile he reserved just for her, and she felt her own smile answer his without hesitation for a moment, before her eyes clouded with memories from this afternoon, and she looked back down at his top button again.

"We fought. I blamed her for leaving me and stormed out. And then traffic was hell, and I thought I'd shaken it off by the time I got home, but then I realized it's been a week since you and I have been apart and you're so much a part of my space now that it felt weird you weren't here and I was blaming you for weaseling your way into every corner of my life and then the styrofoam temple made the fridge stink so I had to clean it all out and then you came over and I was horrible. And what do you do? You clean my oven until I'm calm enough to look at you, and hug me like I'm doing you a favor."

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, forgetting for a moment that he wasn't allowed to call her that, and pressing a kiss to her forehead, her cheek, her mouth. "I'm sorry you had a rough day," he said, leaning his forehead against hers so he could look her in the eye. A tear spilled over her cheek, and he wiped it away gently with his thumb.

She choked out a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a laugh, tipping forward once more so that she could nuzzle into the base of his throat. "You're an amazing, patient man, Richard Castle."

"You're allowed to be mad at her for leaving you, you know."

She blinked, drawing away from him slightly, tugging her bottom lip with her teeth as she digested his words. Pulling away completely, she turned to the cabinet behind her and pulled out a glass, crossing to the sink to fill it with water and downing it in one go, a small frown puckering her brow as she processed. He leaned back against the counter behind him, watching the thoughts flitting across her face in much the same way he did from his chair by her desk at the precinct.

Unlike the precinct, however, when she finally raised her eyes to his, they were rapidly filling with tears which began spilling down her cheeks unchecked. "I haven't even hugged her yet, Castle. What kind of person does that make me?"

Oh, Kate.

His heart nearly rent in two at the lost little girl expression on her tear streaked face. He was across the room in two long strides, once again gathering her up into himself, bending his bulky frame around hers, shielding and comforting her the only way he knew how. She clung to him, soaking his shirt with her tears as he mumbled soothing nothings against her temple. It wasn't until the worst of her sobs had calmed that she was finally able to speak.

"I just... I'm such a wreck right now, Castle. I don't know what I'm meant to feel. At least when she died... I know I didn't handle that well either, but at least once I joined the force I had something to focus my anger on, you know? And when that became too much, there was counseling, but now... I... I just don't... How am I meant to deal with this?"

Castle was rubbing long, slow patterns up and down her back and arms, occasionally pressing a kiss to her temple or the crown of her head when he couldn't hold it in any longer. "Do you think that going back to therapy would help? You still have sessions with Dr. Burke from time to time, don't you?"

She nodded, sniffing pathetically. He squeezed her tighter on reflex. "I'll call him and see if he can see me first thing in the morning," she said. He tipped her face up so she could see him smiling at her, and gently brushed his lips over hers.

"I'm proud of you, Kate."

"I'd better call him now, before his office closes," she leaned forward to kiss him once, twice more, before reluctantly pulling away so she could cross back to the little table in the entryway where she had automatically dropped her phone and keys when she came in. Finding the number in her contacts, she moved to the living room and flopped on the sofa as she waited for the call to connect. Castle stayed where he was in the kitchen leaning a hip against the counter, watching her with an eye crinkling smile that filled her with confidence and adoration. She managed to make an appointment for first thing in the morning, and while she was at it, she sent a text to Ryan to let him know she'd be slightly late in the next day.

Once she finished, she dropped her phone on the coffee table and lifted her eyes to meet her partner's. They simply stared at one another for a long moment, before he pushed away from the counter and came over to her, drawn like a magnet. Flopping on the sofa next to her, he lifted one arm for her to curl into his side, before lowering it around her and drawing her even closer to him.

"We should do something about dinner," she said, snuggling into his chest in a way that suggested she really didn't want to move any time in the near future. He gave a low chuckle.

"I guess dinner with your Dad isn't on the menu tonight after all?" his tone was light and teasing, and she lifted her head just high enough to glare at him. "Too soon?" he asked innocently.

She nodded, but somehow still found herself fighting off the grin threatening the corners of her mouth. He couldn't help himself, leaning forward to press a kiss to her tempting, twitching lips. She resisted briefly, more to make him work for it than out of actual malice, but all too soon found herself opening to him, enjoying the slide of his tongue over hers as her body canted into his. His arms tightened around her as the kiss ignited, and she awkwardly used her toes on the coffee table as leverage to press herself into him, up towards his face as his mouth drifted down along her jaw to taste the pulse point on her neck. He slid one hand down her side, hitching it under her knee and drawing her up so that she could straddle him properly.

Needless to say, when they finally got to ordering in, it was a very late dinner, indeed.


	9. Chapter 8

"_...So let's just start with what we have. What did this do to you? Tell me. And remember, this is for posterity, so be honest. How do you feel?"  
_

_[Westley whimpers in pain]_

"_Interesting." _

_-Count Rugen, _The Princess Bride

* * *

"It's been a while since we've needed an emergency appointment," Dr. Burke observed as he gestured for Kate to take her seat in her usual spot. She curled up automatically, but her posture spoke more of being relaxed and in a safe place rather than the defensiveness she had displayed in some of their earlier sessions- not what he had expected when his PA had informed him of the identity of his first patient of the day. "What brings you in today, Kate?"

She didn't quite smile at him, and drew the cuff of her sleeve over her hand, worrying at it with her fingers. Maybe not as at ease as she first appeared. Interesting. She cleared her throat before she responded, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. All her usual stalling devices.

"You know how we've spent a lot of time talking about my Mom's case, and how that's affected me?" she began, glancing up from underneath her eyelashes to see his response. He nodded, and she continued. "Well, I found out something that... it changes everything, and I don't know what to do with it."

"That's what I'm here for. What did you find out?" he leaned back in his chair, attention focused on his patient.

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Shuffled a little on the sofa. A small crease appeared between her eyebrows as she searched for words.

"My mom... my mother isn't dead," she finally said, looking up at him from under her eyelashes beseechingly. Now that this hardest part was out of her mouth, the rest of her words tumbled after in a rush. "It sounds crazy. It is crazy. But she showed up at my Dad's place two nights ago. She's been in witness protection all this time, and now she's come back."

Dr. Burke was trained to not look surprised by the things his patients revealed, but his eyebrows rose at this unexpected piece of news.

"Have you seen her?" he asked, rapidly schooling his features.

She nodded. "Twice. Dad brought her over to Castle's place to show me she was alive that same night, and then yesterday..." her voice trailed off, and she looked away.

"Yesterday?" he prompted, when it looked like she really wasn't going to continue.

She cleared her throat, her voice husky. "I went over to Dad's yesterday afternoon. I needed to see her for myself, make sure it wasn't a dream. And it was fine, at first. Then I asked her where she'd been, and when she started to explain... I just... I got so mad all of a sudden, and next thing I know we're arguing, and then Dad came home so I left."

Dr. Burke was silent for a long moment, putting the pieces together. Unconsciously tapping his pen against his notes "Kate, how did you grieve for your mother when she was murdered? You were nineteen, right?"

She nodded, clearly wondering what this had to do with anything, but he could see the flicker in her eyes as she decided to just go with it, trusting him to have a point. Progress.

"Well, at first I guess I didn't want to believe it. I can remember just feeling so lost. Then we had the funeral to organize, and I remember I didn't cry. There was just... there were too many people there, and then afterward we had this miserable reception, and everyone was so full of polite nothings. My Dad and I hung out that afternoon, went to the beach in our funeral clothes. The next day my Dad bought a bottle of whiskey on the way home, and that was his grieving process for the next few years," she finished bitterly.

"What did you do?" he gently brought her back on topic. She took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before reopening them.

"I cried a lot. Mostly once I was in bed at night. I started going through her things, sorting them out, since Dad wasn't... I began reading- to escape, I guess. That's how I discovered Castle's books, actually. My Mom had a couple and they were just what I needed- they didn't sugar coat the gruesome details, but they were so lighthearted and clever at the same time. They drew me in, helped me get away from it all, I guess, and the bad guy always got justice," a small smile tugged on her lips, thinking about how her partner's words had helped her so long before he had become such a central part of her life.

"That mattered to you, didn't it? Getting justice," Dr. Burke asked.

She nodded. "More than anything. It's so hard to put into words, but I just... I needed to know who. Why. I needed to look them in the eye and make them understand that this was my mother. I needed to know who to blame for taking her away from me."

"You're angry about that, even now," it was phrased as an observation, but he knew from experience that sometimes Kate responded better to that. That because of her job she had a tendency to shy away when she felt she was being interrogated.

"Yes," she lifted her eyes to his, glittering with emotion carefully suppressed. "It's what drove me to join the force. I needed to know why. I just couldn't understand the ineptitude of the investigators. I felt like they didn't care enough to find real answers, that it was just a job to them, done in a rush and quickly forgotten."

"What did you do about your anger?" he asked gently. She stared at him for a long moment, thinking hard.

"I joined the police force," she said eventually. "Took it out on my training, on becoming the best cop I could be."

Dr. Burke nodded. "Do you think you ever moved past it? The anger, I mean, not the murder."

She slipped her bottom lip under her teeth, chewing on it as she thought. Finally, she shook her head. "No. No, I don't think I ever did."

He leaned forward slightly in his seat. "Do you understand now why you felt it?"

She looked out the window, both to avoid his steady gaze and to attempt to control the sudden tears welling in her eyes. "I think so," she nodded, "I think that I felt like Mom had abandoned me when she got killed, and Dad abandoned me to the bottle, and Detective Raglan abandoned me when he let her case grow cold. And people have been abandoning me ever since. Castle's the only one who stuck around, and even he's had his moments where..." her voice trailed off, and she sat in pensive silence for a few moments.

"But you never abandoned your mother's case," Dr. Burke asked as he leaned back in his chair, watching her every expression.

She shook her head. "How could I? Everyone else had. It was the one thing I could do to honor her memory. Seeking the truth and holding fast to it was her driving force. It just wasn't right that a person who believed so strongly that truth conquers all could become a forgotten cold case on a shelf in the records room."

"And now you've found out she's alive again," a statement again, to keep her talking.

Kate nodded. "I always thought that she didn't want to leave, that she didn't have a choice. And now I find out she did- that every day she could have chosen to come back to me."

"It's a lot to deal with," he observed.

She scoffed. "That's an understatement. I never planned to be a cop. Not until they told me her case was cold, and I realized I needed to know. I've dedicated my life to it. It wasn't until Castle and I... up until just recently it's always come first, over everything and everyone. And then there's what it's done to my relationships. You know. You've seen how messed up I was, how long it took me to be able to take that leap into a real relationship with Castle. If it wasn't for my Mom's case, I wouldn't have been shot. I wouldn't have ever come to have therapy here. There's not a single aspect of my life it hasn't touched, cast its shadow over. And it was all a lie."

"You feel betrayed," he said.

"Yes," the tears she had fought so hard against began rolling unchecked down her cheeks, hanging for a moment off her chin before creating dark patched on her sweater. "She was the person I trusted most in my life; the one person who never lied to me. I didn't have that many close friends, you know? I mean, I had some, but after high school we kind of drifted apart, and while I had some friends at Stanford... I was trying so hard to figure out where I fit. And I never had to pretend with my Mom. She always just knew me and accepted me. Told me the truth. She was meant to be there for me, and then all of a sudden, she wasn't."

"You said she had a choice. If she was in witness protection all this time, do you really feel she did?" he questioned.

Kate shrugged, giving her therapist a sudden glimpse at what she would have been like as a teenager. "I guess not. I don't know. She taught me that there's always a choice."

He nodded. "Do you know why she made that one?"

"She said something about having to choose between us and our safety," Kate replied.

"And if that's what she truly believed, would you really have her make a different choice?"

Kate pressed her lips together for a long moment, before choosing her words carefully. "She made a brave decision. Probably the choice I would have made, given the circumstances. But I can't help thinking there could have been a third option, maybe one she didn't see at the time- one that would have allowed her to both keep us safe and not put us through that trauma. Maybe I've been spending too much time with Castle, but surely there must have been a way?"

"Sometimes there isn't a third option to be perceived. Sometimes people only see the choices offered to them- they don't consider anything else," he said gently. He could see the mutiny in her eyes, the rising anger that she had never truly dealt with, and braced himself for the eruption that he knew was coming. He wasn't disappointed.

"Maybe she should have!" she cried, the anguished words ripping through the control she had maintained throughout the session. "How could she think we didn't need her? And then for her to waltz back into our lives as if nothing's changed? How could she do that? How can the woman who was always so selfless be so selfish? How could she choose to _die_?!"

Her shoulders shook in great, heaving sobs, finally purging her soul of a portion of the grief she had carried with her for years. It was several long moments before she finally began to calm down, her breath catching as she finally began to reclaim control of her emotions.

Dr. Burke put his notes aside for a moment and leaned forward in his chair, speaking to her earnestly. "Kate, it's really ok for you to feel anger and even betrayal. They are perfectly valid feelings. Emotions are indicators that there is a problem; they are not the problem itself. Sometimes understanding another person's viewpoint is helpful in resolving those feelings, but ultimately, the choice of what you do with them is up to you. And while they are completely valid, I think you will find that if you choose to forgive and work through them, they will only be temporary."

She nodded. "That's what I want. I want her to be a part of my life again. I want to trust her again. I just don't know how."

"One step at a time," he smiled. "There are strategies I can give you to help you start along that path, but first I think you need to meet with your mother and begin a dialogue. If possible, you need to communicate some of the hurts you have expressed here today, and be open to hearing her hurts. Perhaps acknowledge that you will not have the relationship you used to have, and put in place a plan to get to know one another again- not as mother and daughter, but as two people who haven't seen each other in- what, fourteen years?"

"Fourteen years," she confirmed, her eyes far away. "It's so crazy that it's been so long. I remember it all so clearly."

"So do you think you can do that? Do you think you can meet with her, and truly talk?" he pressed.

She met his eyes unwillingly, and sighed. "I can try," she said doubtfully. "But is it bad that I'd rather talk to a murderer than my own mother?"

"It's not bad, Kate. It's your comfort zone," he reassured her. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"No wonder I'm seeing a therapist," she muttered, and he laughed.

"It is what I'm here for. Now, what are you going to do when you leave here?" he prompted.

"Call my mother, see if we can meet," she replied as if reciting her times tables.

"And...?" he pushed. She glared at him, and he smiled back enigmatically.

"And talk to her," she finally said through gritted teeth.

"And talk to her," he confirmed, and made as if to stand, but paused. "I'm really proud of you Kate. I don't know if you can see it, but you've made so much progress since you've been coming to see me."

She seemed to get the hint and rose to her feet. "Thanks. I think I can see it, now you mention it- but it means a lot to hear you say it," she smiled.

"It's been a good session. Hopefully next time you'll be able to tell me how it goes," he smiled as he stood, and ushered her out the door.


	10. Chapter 9

"_You mean, you'll put down your rock and I'll put down my sword, and we'll try and kill each other like civilized people?" _

_-The Man in Black_, The Princess Bride

* * *

He was surprised when his phone rang, but he quickly reached for where it lay on the coffee table. His eyebrows shot up when he saw the caller ID.

"Katie!" he answered the phone, trying and failing to keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Hey, Dad," his daughter's voice held the telltale tremble that gave away just how nervous she was to be calling him, and his heart broke for her.

"How are you?" he asked with the tone he used to use when she was a child woken by nightmares. He heard her intake of breath, knew she was trying for a smile. When she spoke, he could hear relief in her voice, the kind that came when she discovered he wasn't angry like she'd expected him to be.

"I went to see my therapist this morning," she replied, hesitant as ever to talk about needing help, but he knew. They had both learned the hard way that some things were too big to deal with alone.

"I'm so proud of you, Katie," he couldn't hold the words back, feeling strongly, once again, that he didn't tell her often enough.

"Thanks," her reply came through a hint of a self-depreciating laugh.

"Did it go ok?" he prompted her. She expelled a breath into the phone, causing a crackle down the line.

"Yeah, it was good. Helped me understand some things," she finally said.

"That's good," he said, waiting for her to take the lead on this conversation.

"I was wondering..." she began nervously.

"Anything, Katie," he responded quietly, smiling as he heard her give a breathless, startled laugh.

"Well, in that case..." she teased, leaving the sentence hanging on purpose, and they both laughed. When she spoke again, her voice held more confidence. "I was wondering if you and Mom are free to have dinner tonight, since we all missed out yesterday."

Jim closed his eyes, tried to keep his gratefulness at her capitulation out of his tone and nearly succeeding. "I think that'd be great, Katie. I think your mother would really appreciate that, too."

Her response was noncommittal. "We'll see."

He shook his head a little, grinning to himself at his daughter's stubborn nature. "Your place, then, tonight?"

"I was actually thinking maybe somewhere slightly more neutral. Martha's out tonight, and Castle isn't expecting Alexis, either, so he suggested we come here," her voice had a forced ring to it, like she was trying a little too hard to be happy. He knew better than to call her on it, though. He could feel the strain down the phone line.

"Dinner tonight sounds perfect. Around 6?" he asked instead. He heard her exhale again; another crackle down the line. Her voice was laced with an almost palpable relief.

"See you then," she said.

"See you then," he echoed, and a moment later, the line went dead.

* * *

The body dropped at 1.45 that afternoon.

Literally.

Off a rooftop.

With a knife lodged firmly in the young man's back.

By the time three detectives and their intrepid shadow had been to the crime scene, talked to Lanie about initial findings, talked to witnesses, sent uniforms out to canvas the area, and gone back to the precinct to set up the murder board, the afternoon was ticking on.

Kate hung up the phone with a sigh, turned to the boys. "That was Lanie confirming both time and cause of death. Any luck yet with IDing our vic?"

"That's a negative. So far no hits on his fingerprints in any of the databases. Hopefully Lanie will have more luck with his dental records," Esposito replied from across the room. Kate turned to study the murder board for a long moment. Castle appeared out of nowhere, handed her a steaming mug which she accepted without much more than a distracted lift of the corner of her mouth. He leaned against her desk next to her, felt her shift towards him almost instinctively.

"And we're still waiting on the warrant for that security footage?" The building's manager had not been overly helpful.

"Still waiting. This time of day, we'll be lucky if it comes through before the morning," Ryan stretched in his chair.

"I guess there's no point in sticking around here, then," Kate said, eying the murder board wistfully.

All three of the boys froze.

There was a moment of shocked silence. She turned to glare at them.

"Are you...?" Castle began at the same time as Ryan stage whispered to Espo, "Did she just...?"

She looked at each of them in turn, then sighed and gave in. "Ok, yes, I don't like stopping here any more than you do, but I have some really important dinner plans that I don't think I should cancel."

Ryan and Esposito turned to look at Castle questioningly.

"Hey, I'm not the one... It's not..." he babbled and then stopped short, turned to his partner. "You have dinner plans?" he glanced around the bullpen to make sure that no one besides their immediate circle was listening. He leaned a little closer, lowered his voice. "Am I invited?"

Biting her lip did nothing to prevent the shy smile that bloomed across her face. She glanced over his shoulder and saw the boys were still straining to hear every word. "You know those plans we cancelled last night?"

"Uh huh," his eyes darkened, fixed on her mouth.

"I called my dad this morning, rescheduled for tonight."

He snapped his eyes up to meet hers, wide and surprised and so very blue, but the surprise melted almost immediately into something warmer, softer. A purely Castle blend of love and pride and devotion and desire.

She swallowed the urge she was fighting constantly these days to kiss him in the middle of the precinct, and glanced at the boys who were still listening in. She raised an eyebrow at them, and they turned back to their desks. Kate lowered her voice to a whisper anyway. "I need you to do something for me, though."

"Anything," he breathed without hesitation. She smiled to herself, reassured again and again of his love for her.

"I need you to find some time at some point to entertain my Dad. You know, so my Mom and I can talk. Maybe patch things up," she said, hope and trepidation warring in her eyes.

"Truly extraordinary," he murmured almost to himself, fisting his hand when he realized it was half way to reaching for her without conscious thought. She ducked her head a little and nearly turned back to the board, when a thought occurred to her. She gripped his arm tightly.

"I forgot to tell you. Dinner's at your place."

* * *

When they got home, after a quick stop by the store, Castle wisely left Kate to her own devices in the kitchen and set about making sure the rest of the loft was acceptable for entertaining. She approached the chicken she was preparing in a similar manner to the way she would normally approach an interrogation- focused and determined. He secretly wondered what that said about him, that he was more than a little bit aroused by her demeanor, as well as being simultaneously more than a little terrified, too.

When the loft was presentable- it didn't take long, as he liked his home to be orderly- he carefully approached the bench, sliding onto a bar stool to watch her flying and hovering about.

"Anything I can do?" he asked cautiously. He couldn't tell whether even that much would be welcome.

She didn't so much as glance in his direction. "I'm fine," she replied abstractly.

"Oh, you're that all right, Detective," he replied smoothly, unable to stop the words if he tried. She looked at him then, eyebrow raised, but there was just the barest hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. He took that as an invitation, moving around the island and into her space, sliding his arms around her from behind. She heaved a sigh and leaned back into him, but he could still feel the tension in the lines of her back and shoulders. "You're going to be great this evening," he murmured into her hair, before nudging her hair away and trailing his mouth down her neck. She shivered, melting into him briefly, but just then, there was a knock on the door. She froze. He didn't, enjoying his occupation.

"Castle!" she hissed.

"Mmm?" he mumbled from that rather engaging spot at the top of her spine.

"My parents are here!" she exclaimed in a panicked whisper.

He paused in his ministrations. "It's not like they can see us from the other side of the door," he pointed out reasonably, before nipping at the juncture of her shoulder. Her breathing was becoming more rapid- whether from what he was doing or the thought of her parents catching him doing it, he wasn't sure.

"Shouldn't they be on this side?" she squeaked as he moved her shirt aside and gently bit down on her shoulder, before soothing the area with his tongue.

He heaved a regretful sigh and straightened up, pressing his lips one last time to the top of her head. "Spoil sport," he murmured fondly, before crossing to the door and opening it.

"Jim! Johanna! Welcome! Come on in," Castle's manner was easy and inviting, the perfect host.

"Good to see you, Rick," Jim smiled as he removed his coat. "Where's Katie?"

"Busy making something smell amazing in the kitchen. She wouldn't let me help," he sighed comically, moving to gallantly assist Johanna with her coat. She smiled at him engagingly, and he couldn't help but notice an uncanny resemblance to her daughter.

"That's my girl," she laughed. Johanna Beckett had the ability to light up the room with her laughter.

"Takes after her mother- stubborn and independent," Jim teased, winking at Castle.

"The independence I'll claim. The stubbornness comes from both off us," she replied firmly, but there was a sparkle in her eye.

At Castle's gesture, Jim lead them further into the loft, and they congregated around the breakfast bar as Kate looked up at them and smiled a greeting.

"How're you doing, Katie-bug? It smells wonderful," Jim said.

"I'm doing great. Should be done in about ten minutes, so make yourselves comfortable. Castle, drinks?" she prompted without skipping a beat from what she was doing. Castle moved around the counter, and the two of them danced around each other effortlessly, in sync as always, as he fetched glasses and selected a bottle of wine.

"This ok?" he asked Jim, waving the bottle slightly to ask if it was ok to drink in front of him. He asked every time, no matter how many reassurances both Jim and Kate gave him. "We have apple juice, too. Kate made sure to get your favorite."

Jim gave a small nod and a grateful smile, noting again how thoughtful Castle was with the people he cared for. It eased his heart to know his daughter was with a good man.

"Oh, wine sounds lovely. We'll definitely have some," Johanna said with a smile, her tone inclusive.

There was an awkward pause as both Kate and Castle glanced at Jim, who sucked in a breath as if he'd been punched.

"_Mom_!" Kate hissed. Johanna looked between them, confused.

"Apple juice is fine," Jim said weakly. Castle poured the juice first, nudging it over to Jim, before pouring three conservative glasses of wine, chatting animatedly all of a sudden to ease the sudden tension.

"Well, we've had an interesting day today. A guy dropped off a rooftop with a knife in his back- very Julius Caesar, only with added gravity. Sounds like the kind of thing I would write. Not all of our murders are that colorful, although Beckett here does seem to attract the more unusual cases. We've had some adventurous ones, haven't we, Kate? But that's why I shadow her, inspiration for my writing. Speaking of writing, Jim, I was wondering if I could pick your brain for a moment. I have a question about property law loopholes I need for the next Heat book. My notes are in my study, if you ladies will excuse us? We won't be long. This way, Jim," he led the way towards his study, throwing a wink back at Kate as he went. Jim followed along, looking slightly dazed at the volume of words and quick subject changes they had just been subjected to, leaving Kate alone with her mother.

There was an awkward silence as Castle's voice faded into muffled background noise with a distinct click of the office door. Kate turned back to the stove to stir one of the pots.

"Katie..." Johanna began, but Kate whirled around, her eyes blazing.

"How could you be so thoughtless, Mom?" she demanded.

"I forgot. I'm sorry-"

"Well, you should be. It took him five years to crawl out of the bottle, and even now he has days where he struggles. That's what Castle was asking- if it was ok today," Kate fumed.

"Kate, I told you I was sorry. I'm still getting used to all of this, too," Johanna said sharply, before her voice softened. "It was good of you to ask us here tonight, considering."

Kate sighed heavily, turned away to check the pots on the stove more as an excuse to avoid her mother's steady gaze. "I'm still mad at you. Everyone keeps telling me I can't avoid you forever and that we'll have to work it out sometime, but... I'm just not sure I can handle you back in my life again after fourteen years, now that I've finally learned to live without you."

She glanced over her shoulder to where Johanna had slid onto a bar stool. She was staring at the counter top, avoiding Kate's eyes. When she spoke, her tone was withdrawn.

"Do you really mean that?" she asked.

Kate swallowed. "Yes? But I don't not want you, either. I just... it's going to take some time for me to trust that you're not going to leave again."

Johanna lifted eyes full of hurt and compassion. "I understand. I really do. But Katie, I'm not going to live forever. I might get hit by a truck tomorrow crossing the street. You can't cut me out of your life because of what might happen," she said gently.

"It's going to take me a while to trust you again," Kate warned.

"I know, Katie-bug. It's been traumatic for all of us. We need to get to know each other again as who we are now, and give each other permission to have grown and changed. I don't mind taking things slow if that's what you need. But I would very much like to be a part of your life again," there was just the slightest hint of a catch in her voice. It was that, if anything, that convinced Kate that Johanna really meant what she was saying.

Kate turned off the stove, judging everything to be ready, and came to lean against the counter opposite her mother. "Ok," she said. Johanna's smile bloomed across her face, and Kate felt a weight lift inside herself. Her mother's smile had always done that to her. She held up a warning hand though. "We do need to get to know each other again. But we do this slowly, ok? I need time to adjust to all of this."

The door to the study flew open somewhere in the middle of her words, and Castle came bounding out, full of enthusiasm. Behind him, Jim followed at a more sedate pace, smiling.

"That's what we were thinking, too!" Castle said excitedly, having caught only the very last of Kate's words. "Jim just suggested that the Beckett clan goes away next weekend to the cabin, to get the whole family reacquainted."

Kate turned to him, alarmed. "Castle, that's not what I-"

She was interrupted by him pulling her into his arms and planting an enthusiastic celebratory smooch on her mouth, before pulling away and looking down into her eyes. She could see he was laughing because he was really on the verge of tears- the good kind- and lifted her hand to smooth her fingers along his jaw.

"Kate," he whispered, voice full of awe. "He included me in that. He wants me to come, too!"


	11. Chapter 10

"_It's not that bad."_

_[Buttercup stares at him]_

"_Well, I'm not saying I'd like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely."_

_-Westley,_ The Princess Bride

* * *

Castle's animated chatter had grown suspiciously quieter when Kate turned the car off the highway, and then quieter still as they bounced up the dirt track to the cabin, following her dad's car at an easy distance. She prefered the drive in the summer time, as the beauty of the woods was unmistakeable then- trees surrounded them on every side; beautiful, solid hardwoods and evergreens, tangled vines and saplings springing up in between, and underbrush adding texture and color to the landscape. Occasionally a small stream or waterfall could be glimpsed, the only hint yet of the lake which the cabin backed onto. In the winter it contained its own beauty though- a veritable Winter Wonderland with snow thick on the ground and ice defining every visible piece of bark, detailing it with silver.

She glanced at him as she navigated the familiar track, avoiding potholes and easing the vehicle around turns along the narrow way. He had turned slightly so he could face away from her, the little she could see of his face suggesting he was wearing a frown. His hands were restless, too, fiddling with the seat belt and worrying the little scrap of leather that had come away from his arm rest. After his fourth sigh, she reached a hand across the consul to still his fidgeting fingers. He seemed to startle when she touched him, turning surprised blue eyes to stare at her.

"Castle, what's wrong? I thought you were excited about this trip," she asked, concern outweighing her momentary irritation. He sighed heavily. Again.

"I am. I really am. I just..." his voice trailed off, and he looked out the side window, lost in his own mind again.

"So excited you can't even finish a sentence, maybe?" she teased lightly, brushing her thumb over his knuckles before releasing his hand to make a particularly sharp turn. Once she was done, she reached for his hand again, squeezing it gently. He squeezed back, and turned to face her.

"I was so swept away by your Dad including me on your family holiday that I forgot we were going to his cabin," his voice was low, heavy. Almost robotic.

Her eyebrows came together as she tried to puzzle out his train of thought. She came up blank. "And that's a problem...?"

Another sigh. "I just haven't been here yet."

She just waited this time, lifting a slightly demanding eyebrow at him.

"This is where you came... after," he finally managed to wrench the words out.

"After...?" she began, bewildered at first, but then it all clicked into place.

After she was shot. After she told him she needed some time and space, and never called. This is where she ran away to, while he stayed in the city spending an entire summer staring at a phone that never rang.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. "Yes. This is where I stayed while I recovered." Her voice would have sounded steady to a stranger, as if she had few thoughts on the subject. Castle, however, had spent the last five years cataloging every detail of her, so he caught the little tremor of regret that ran beneath her words.

"Have you been back here?" he asked quietly, trying as hard as he could not to add any more hurt to the conversation.

"Once. I, uh, came up here for a weekend last year. For my Dad's birthday," she replied.

"It'll be interesting to see if the place looks anything like I imagined it," he said after a long pause.

She glanced at him. "How did you imagine it?"

He grinned at her. "Oh, you know, the usual. Rough timber decor, comfortable but mismatched furnishings, my initials carved in love hearts on the exposed beams of your bedroom." he teased to break the tension. She wasn't put off, though.

"Will you be ok? Coming out here?" she asked, bringing her bottom lip under her teeth. He sighed, shifting in his seat.

"Bit late now, isn't it?" he joked humorlessly, before giving her a serious answer. "I will be, once I'm there. I guess I just built this place up a lot in my mind, you know? And..." he took a deep breath, "And we've never really talked about that summer."

The words hung out there, bouncing around the car between them. She felt like she had been punched in the gut.

It took her several moments to recover.

"You're right. We never did. Is that... I mean, obviously you've been thinking about it..." she floundered. His grip on her hand tightened. She had almost forgotten he was holding it.

"Kate, you don't- I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm sorry," he said, trying to make it better like he always did, but she shook her head.

"No, you want to know. You deserve to know, and I want you to if it helps you. Just... anything you need, Castle. I'm... we're both in this. Together. And I'm sorry if this is something that has hurt you. I know I'm not always completely forthcoming, but... I want to be, Castle. For you," she stumbled over her words as she tried to explain, cursing her inability to articulate emotions clearly.

Glancing over at him as she gently pried her hand away to navigate another tight series of bends, she saw his eyes were misting over, an awestruck look of pride and affection filling them.

"I don't deserve you," he said sincerely. "You're... Kate, I don't have words for you. You're incredible. The bravest person I've ever met."

Not knowing how to respond, she reached for his hand and lifted it to her lips to kiss, cradling it to her cheek for a moment before releasing it.

He seemed to understand.

* * *

When they arrived, they grabbed their bags and headed through the open plan living space inside. The cabin wasn't huge, and was fairly traditional on the outside, but surprisingly spacious within. Jim and Johanna greeted them distractedly, but Jim was eagerly showing his resurrected wife the renovations that had been done around the place over the past few years. Kate hustled them through quickly to the tiny hallway, and into the first bedroom.

"Bathroom's just through there," she said, pointing. "Dad's done a lot to the place now that he's been spending more time out here. My room pretty much looks the way it always did, except Dad surprised me with a new bed when I got up here that summer. He thought I might need more space."

The room was tiny, the queen sized bed taking up most of the space jammed up in the corner against the window. The walls were papered in a lavender print- probably dating back to her childhood- and posters adorned the walls with a couple of band logos, presumably from her teen years. There was a tiny closet and a bureau along the wall at the foot of the bed by the door, and a small step bookshelf lined the wall next to the bedside table.

She ushered him in, indicated for him to drop their bags at the foot of the bed, and watched with a small smile as he immediately started poking around. Of course he noticed the well worn pair of Nikki Heat books on the bedside table almost right away. He crossed the room in two long strides and picked up _Heat Wave_, a huge grin on his face. The grin fell into a frown, though, as he flipped open the front cover, and he looked up and her.

"My Dad's copies," she answered his unvoiced question. His eyebrows almost disappeared into his hair, and all but dropped the book back onto the bedside table. She moved into the room, sat on the bed, and tugged him down to sit next to her. "Dad brought them out here after his first trip back into the city," she explained. "I think he knew how badly I wanted even some part of you to be here with me."

He reached up and swept a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "If I'd known, I would have been here in an instant," he said sadly. She cupped his hand to her face, pressed her cheek into his palm.

"I know that now. Back then... Castle, I was so broken. I wouldn't have been able to handle it," she whispered.

"I know. I just wish I could have been here for you somehow," he replied, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.

"You were. Your words were. And not just your books. What you said when it happened- that's what kept me going. There were days where the sound in my head of you saying you loved me was the only thing that got me out of bed, kept me motivated to get better," she admitted, bringing her other hand up to stroke through his hair.

He looked down at her, awestruck, before swooping in and molding his lips to hers, seeking and tasting and loving. When he pulled away, his cheeks were suspiciously damp. She laughed quietly, used her thumbs to dry his eyes even as he turned his head to press kisses to her palms.

"My summer here was torture, Castle. I need you to help me make some happy memories here instead. Will you do that?" she smiled. He nodded his head vigorously, pulling her to him playfully and tipping them both down on the bed so that she landed sprawled across his chest. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped. "Castle, my parents are in the other room!" she whispered.

"Actually, we're in the hallway," Johanna's voice came from the open door with a laugh. Castle unceremoniously dumped Kate onto the bed next to him and sat bolt upright.

"Hey! How was your trip?" he asked, trying too hard for innocence. Kate rolled over and sat up, thumping him on the arm. "Ow! Apples!"

"Rick, if you're done acting being my daughter's punching bag, I think Jim's eager to give you the grand tour. He's done a lot to the place."

"I don't think I'll ever be done with that job," he muttered, scrambling off the bed and following Johanna out into the living room.

* * *

After a lengthy tour of the cabin, Jim's pride and joy, Castle was then invited to help bring in fire wood from the shed and help make sure everything was in working order outside, too. Twenty minutes later, they were finished but freezing, and Johanna brought steaming mugs of hot chocolate into the living area as Jim made quick work of getting the fire started. Kate reappeared, too, curling into Castle's side on the sofa.

"How's my hunter gatherer?" teased Kate, pressing a kiss into his jaw. He gave her a dirty look as he accepted the steaming mug from Johanna.

"This hot chocolate is amazing!" he enthused.

Jim beamed at Johanna from his spot on the rug. "It's her secret recipe. No one can make hot chocolate like my Jo."

Kate took a tentative sip to cover her discomfort at her father's open admiration. With things still not totally resolved between herself and her mother, she found herself feeling almost a little betrayed by her father's easy acceptance of the situation.

The taste of the hot chocolate curled over her tongue, awakening memories of winter evenings and Christmas and laughter. It caught in her throat, made her bust out coughing.

"Kate? You ok?" Castle asked, ever attentive. She nodded, standing quickly.

"I'm fine. Excuse me," she carefully placed her mug on the coffee table and almost ran to the hallway. Castle made as if to stand, but Johanna held up her hand.

"Let me. Please?" she asked. Her eyes were so much like Kate's he couldn't say no. He nodded silently, and she exited the room after her daughter.

* * *

Kate was curled up on the bed facing the wall, her emotions in a jumble. She had all but forgotten the taste of her mother's hot chocolate, but having it again this afternoon served as yet another reminder of all she had missed out on over the past fourteen years. Drinking it felt like she was accepting the situation, and she was just so confused by everything.

Hearing a light tap on the door, followed by it creaking open and the end of the bed dipping under a person's weight, Kate stayed as she was.

"I'm fine, Castle. Really," she said.

"It's not Castle, Katie," her mother said gently. Kate jerked up into a sitting position, sliding awkwardly up to sit against the headboard, as far from her mother as she could get.

"What do you want?" Kate asked, her wavering voice betraying the control she had been aiming for.

"I just wanted to check on you. You left in rather a hurry," Johanna said, a sadness beneath her gentle tone.

"I said I was fine," Kate said woodenly. Johanna sighed.

"Kate." Her parental warning voice. Kate squirmed, feeling like she was twelve and in trouble. She spoke through clenched teeth.

"What?" she asked sullenly.

The annoyance drained out of Johanna's eyes. "I just hoped you might want to talk. It's one of the things I missed, curling up with you on winter days or when you were sick, talking about everything, watching Temptation Lane. I've missed you, Katie-Bug."

Kate lowered her eyes, didn't say anything. After a pause, Johanna tried again.

"Look, no one's making you come out there, but we'd all like you to. I can't get to know you again if you don't open up, Katie."

Kate closed her eyes, trying to find her way through the fog of emotion. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered.

Johanna smiled. "Of course you can. Everyone in that room loves you, Katie. And that's why Jim asked Rick to join us- so you wouldn't have to face your father and I alone."

Kate opened her eyes, looked at her mother- but suddenly that wasn't the reassurance she needed. "Castle's there?" she asked.

Her mother nodded. "Castle's there."

"Ok," Kate said, standing slowly and heading back out into the living room.

Castle all but leapt off the couch when he saw her, enveloping her in his arms.

"You ok?" he asked as he cradled her in his arms.

She nodded into his neck, feeling safe and comfortable for the first time since she had arrived at the cabin. Her mother's voice floated over to them, full of amusement.

"I told you so," Johanna said.


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: GUYS GUYS GUYS! Check out the AWESOME cover art dtrekker made for this fic! She's so super talented! Also, this chapter is for CB, whose nagging makes me feel loved :-)  
**

* * *

_"I challenge you to a battle of wits." -Man in Black_

_"For the Princess? To the death? I accept!" -Vizzini_

-The Princess Bride

* * *

Jim's cell phone ringing broke the cozy spell that had wound its way around the group gathered by the fire. Castle had been keeping them entertained with slightly embellished versions of some of the more amusing predicaments he had been in since he had been consulting with the 12th. Somehow, Kate managed to come off sounding like a superhero in all of them, and the boys as loveable minions. What made it more entertaining was Kate's constant correction, often completely interrupting the flow of the tale he was weaving.

It was the phone that broke the cozy atmosphere.

There was really only signal in one corner of the kitchen, and even that could be sporadic on occasion. Jim tended to keep his phone on charge there so that if anyone urgently needed to get hold of him, they could do so. Castle and Jo kept up their conversation as Jim excused himself to answer it- Kate seemed content to simply listen at this point, curled into Castle's shoulder- and none of them really paid much attention to the phone call until Jim cleared his throat.

"Jo? Phone for you. Agent Andrew Johnson of the FBI," he said, his mouth in a tight line reminiscent of his daughter when her suspect alibied out. Jo stood and moved to the kitchen, and Jim came back to the armchair he had been sitting in, but didn't relax into it the way he had been sitting earlier.

The tense silence meant they were all able to hear Johanna's side of the conversation quite clearly.

"Andy! This is a surprise!" her voice was warm, vivacious, and, to be honest, more than a little bit relieved. "It's been going great here... yes. Yes, just like I'd imagined... Well, it's been an adjustment for all of us, but I am hopeful... Tomorrow? Oh, I wish I could. I'm at our family's cabin... You have my scrapbook?! I can't believe I left that behind... Oh, I see. Yes... well, I could give you the address if you like. It's only a couple of hours out, not too far away... Around lunch time? We'll look forward to it. I'm excited about you meeting my daughter..."

Jim seemed to slump as she gave out their address, her voice alight with excitement as she exchanged farewells and ended the call. She turned to them, beaming with joy.

"That was Andy- the Special Agent in Charge of the investigation, and just about the only friend I had these past few years. I left something at the office, apparently, and he's in New York until tomorrow afternoon, so he wanted to drop it by. I told him to come out here for lunch," she flopped into her chair, smiling.

Kate and Castle exchanged a look. Johanna hadn't noticed Jim's frown. Kate cleared her throat. "It'll be good to meet him," she said politely.

Jim stood suddenly, his entire body tense, and he headed to the front door, grabbing his coat off the hook, shrugging it on.

"Jim? Where are you going? It's getting dark out," Johanna asked, puzzled. Jim paused, his hand on the door handle.

"I need some air," he said briefly. Johanna was out of her seat in a flash.

"What's wrong? What did I do?" she pushed. He turned blazing eyes to face her.

"You want to know? I'll tell you. I wanted this weekend to be about our family being together again, Jo. I wanted for the three of us to get to know one another again, to move forward. To give you and Katie a chance to spend some quality time together and maybe even work things out. I wanted Rick to be here so we could both get to know him better, now that he's a fixture in Katie's life. I wanted us to be a family again. And now you're inviting your buddy Andy out here, the man who took you from us in the first place! And you're all smiley and happy, and you're so looking forward to him meeting your daughter. Not a word about your husband. Does he even know you were married, Jo? Do you remember me at all when you're laughing with him- the poor sap who drank himself into oblivion while you were out saving the world with _Andy_?"

"I'm sorry?!" Johanna sputtered, furious now, too. "Jim, I told you already- there was nothing between Andy and I. Not on my end, anyway. He's my friend. I told you that. He's been the only real support I've had these past few years. I'm not dropping him just because I moved home- not when he's been the only one in my corner all this time."

"The only one in your corner?" Jim repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "Jo, the only reason for that is because he took you from us. We were in your corner. We are your family. It wasn't his place."

"He saved my life! All our lives!" she cried.

"If he knew that you were next on the list, I'm sure he could have done something about it before it came down to faking your death," he challenged her, before a new thought occurred to him. "How well did you know him before you went away?"

She looked down, avoiding his eyes suddenly. "We were friends," she ground out.

He looked at her sadly. "You never even said his name to me, Jo. Not once. If it was all so innocent, why would you hide a friendship from your husband?"

She straightened her shoulders, looked at him directly. "You know we weren't in a good place after Katie left for college," she deflected, but he simply raised his eyebrows, waited for her to answer. She set her jaw, glared at him, but he didn't back down. "Fine," she finally spat out. "He asked me out. Are you happy? I told him no. That even though we were having problems, I was still in love with you. I'd always be in love with you. He respected that."

Jim closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they were full of pain. "Sure, Jo. That's why he orchestrated everything so he could have you to himself."

The fight seemed to drain out of her suddenly. She stepped into him, reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "I was always faithful, Jim. I promise you. And whatever Andy's feelings for me are- or were- he never loved me as much as he loved his job. He knew it, and I knew it. I only ever wanted to come back to you."

He looked into her eyes for a long moment, reading truth in their depths, and finally nodded. "I don't know that I believe or trust him, Jo, but I believe you're telling the truth- as far as you're concerned, anyway," he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She reached up and covered his hand with her own. "Will you meet him tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.

He sighed, thought for a long moment, and finally nodded. "I don't promise to be buddies with him," he warned.

She smiled her mega-watt smile. "I'm not asking you to. Just- try to be a little open minded?"

He bent down and kissed her on the forehead. "If I must," he groused, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

* * *

Castle insisted on helping Johanna cook, leaving Kate alone with her father in front of the fire.

"You going to be ok, Dad?" she asked him quietly. He looked across at her, his mouth lifting into an almost smile.

"I will be," he said quietly, then clarified quickly. "Don't get me wrong. I'm thrilled as hell that she's alive and here. It's just... it's a big adjustment, I guess. And maybe I'm not as ok with some of it as I thought I was."

She smiled at him. "Tell me about it," she said. "Believe it or not, as much as I hate seeing you and Mom fight, I was actually relieved when you reacted the way you did."

"Yeah?" he prompted when it seemed like she wasn't going to say more.

Kate pulled a corner of her lip into her mouth, hesitating before finally choosing to speak. "I thought I was the only one having issues with it all. And all three of us have been changed so much by the last fourteen years, seeing you slip back into a relationship with her like it's the easiest thing in the world... I know I haven't handled her return gracefully, but I was starting to wonder if I was being melodramatic or something."

"Your mother and I both know you need time to process, Katie," he said gently. "You haven't changed that much. Still my little girl."

"Not that little any more, I'm afraid," she reminded him. "Police Detective, remember? Badge? Gun? Ring any bells?"

"Even when you're eighty, you'll still be my baby girl," he replied with an affectionate smile. She rolled her eyes. "What about you, Katie? Will you and your Mom be ok?" he asked gently.

Kate lifted her eyes to glance over to the pair working in the kitchen. Castle had paused in the middle of what he was doing, gesturing wildly, and Johanna was laughing. The corners of Kate's mouth twitched upwards.

"We will be," she said.

* * *

The evening was spent quietly playing board games, Kate and Castle going up against Jim and Johanna, and each team winning one. If conversation was occasionally stilted, no one called attention to it, and Castle, in particular, was at his most charming, and saved the social day.

Jim was the first to break up the party. "I'm heading to bed. I want to be up fairly early to go fishing."

Castle lifted his eyebrows. "Fishing? The lake isn't frozen?" he asked in surprise.

"Oh, it is. Ever been ice fishing, Rick? You'd be welcome to join me," Jim invited enthusiastically. Johanna and Kate both groaned loudly.

"Jim, no!" Johanna pleaded, while at the same time, Kate gripped Castle's arm.

"Plead the fifth, Castle! Quick!" she said with mock concern.

Jim ignored his girls and stared hopefully at Castle, who sighed. Apparently he couldn't say no to any of the Beckett clan.

"Sure, why not?" he agreed. Jim lit up like a Christmas tree, while Johanna threw her head back dramatically and Kate whimpered "Nooo!" into his shoulder, both of them struggling to conceal their grins.

"Great! I'm planning on heading out at 5:30am- can you be up?" Jim asked happily.

Kate laughed at Castle's quickly masked expression of horror. "Don't say we didn't warn you," she teased.

"We can have a hot brunch when you come back in- and with any luck we can have some fresh fish with it," Johanna suggested. Castle nodded glumly.

Jim's eyes twinkled. "See you bright and early, Rick," he said a little too cheerfully. He held out his hand to help Kate up, so he could give her an affectionate hug. "Night, Bug. Don't keep him up too late- he has an early start," he teased.

"I'll see you in there," Johanna said, watching her husband and daughter embracing with envy. She hadn't hugged her daughter in so long, she almost ached with it- but knew not to force the issue. Kate would come around much more quickly if left to do so on her own.

Kate turned to Castle. "We'd better turn in, too," she suggested, holding her hand out to haul him gracelessly off the couch. He deliberately overbalanced once he was vertical, crashing into her and sliding his arms around her on purpose. She huffed a laugh, and he grinned as he squeezed her before standing up properly. "Oaf," she teased.

"You love me for it," he shot back, his grin widening as she ducked her head into his chest. Looking over her head, he noticed Johanna watching them wistfully. "We'll see you in the morning," he smiled.

Johanna nodded, before asking hesitantly, "Katie would you- I'd love it if you'd help me make brunch?"

Kate lifted her head from her partner's shoulder, and nodded slowly, her eyes wide, vulnerable. How many times had she longed to make brunch with her Mom these past years? "I'd like that," she said quietly.

Johanna smiled. "See you in the morning, then. Sweet dreams."

"Good night," Kate managed, taking Castle's hand and leading him out of the room, leaving Johanna staring into the embers of the fire, wondering what condition her family would be in by this time the next day.

* * *

Kate managed to drift back to sleep after Castle's muffled thumping about woke her at a ridiculously early hour, but the bed felt cold and empty without him in it. It was strange- she had never been too enthusiastic about her boyfriends staying over. Yes, she had always appreciated the affection, but she loved being able to stretch out in her own bed and have the covers all to herself. She'd always been protective of her own space. It was different with Castle though. Ok, sure, he was probably a worse blanket hog than all her previous boyfriends put together, but... everything was different with Castle, like the difference between playing house as a child and having her own apartment as a grown up. It was real.

She finally drifted awake again around 7am, mildly grumpy because of the lack of her partner- if he'd been there, she would have woken him up and given them a reason to be late for brunch. She rolled out of bed, made her way through her bathroom routine with relative speed, and headed out to the kitchen, drawn forth by the wafting smell of coffee.

Her mother was standing in the kitchen, cradling her own mug and staring out the window.

"Good morning," Kate greeted her.

Johanna glanced around with a surprised smile. "Good morning! Sleep well?"

"Until Castle got up and tried to be stealthy," Kate said with a grimace that was more for show than anything else. "He can reach a spectacular volume when he's trying to be quiet. I'm just thankful he didn't break anything."

Johanna set her mug down so that she could pour Kate a cup of coffee. Kate accepted it thankfully, cradling the mug against her sternum for several moments before taking a sip, closing her eyes in ecstasy.

When she opened them again, her mother was watching her, bemused.

"Staring's creepy, Mom. Castle does that," she complained, ducking her head. Johanna laughed.

"I'm sure you don't mind when he does it?" she phrased it as a question, tilting her head to the side as she watched her daughter blush a little.

"At first I hated him doing it. I guess it's grown on me a little. But don't tell him that!" she added hastily.

"I won't," Johanna assured her, the corners of her mouth still twitching, before hesitantly adding, "You know, I'd love to hear the story of how you two got together."

"The full version is pretty long, Mom. It took us four years." It wasn't a no.

Johanna looked at her speculatively, trying and failing to mask the hope in her voice. "While we're making brunch, then? We have plenty of time before the boys get back in."

Kate chewed on her lip, considering. Finally, she nodded. Johanna broke out into a wide smile, and for the first time since her return, Kate didn't feel her heart twist painfully. Instead, she answered with a shy smile of her own.

Pancakes, bacon, French toast, hash browns, eggs- the Beckett family brunch was a sacred tradition, and some of Kate's earliest memories had to do with helping her Mom making it. It had always been a time to connect and catch up, in spite of Johanna's busy schedule, balancing work and home life, and Kate's growing social life as she got older. Talking boys while making brunch felt normal, and Kate found herself relaxing, laughing freely with her mother as she recounted various tales of life with her shadow.

She told Johanna how she had loathed him at first, in spite of the pull of attraction that she would never, ever admit to Castle. She told her about how he had wormed his way into being her shadow, and how their relationship had shifted from writer and shadow to friends to partners to best friends to lovers. She didn't go into detail all the time, though, avoiding anything to do with Johanna's murder. It still hurt her too much to talk about it openly, and if Johanna noticed that some parts of the narrative seemed rushed, she didn't say anything.

She was just finishing her tale, both of them laughing over the awkward meet-the-parents conversation between Jim and Martha as they finished cooking, arranging it all in pans and putting it in the oven to keep warm, when Johanna glanced out the window, her face lighting up in a smile. Kate turned to see what had caught her mother's attention.

An unfamiliar SUV had just pulled up in the driveway.


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N: Dear readers: I'm so sorry that updates for both my WIPs have been so few and far between. Please know that I have not abandoned either story. Real life happens, and fic takes the back seat, but rest assured that while updates are taking longer just now, I have not forgotten.**

**MANY thanks to BlueOrchid96 for her ongoing love and support- this chapter, and the only words I've written lately, would not have been scribbled without her! Also to AnnieXMuller for being a slave driver and beta for this chapter. I need to mention my Twitter crowd, who are AMAZING and have prodded and encouraged me every step of the way, in all kinds of fun creative ways- I am blessed by every one of you! Finally, to you, my readers, for every alert, follow, favourite, and review- you inspire me to keep going even when I don't believe I can.**

* * *

_"She doesn't get eaten by eels at this time." -Grandpa_

_"What?" -The Grandson_

_"The eel doesn't get her. I'm explaining to you because you look nervous." -Grandpa_

_"I wasn't nervous. Maybe I was a little bit concerned, but that's not the same thing." -The Grandson_

-The Princess Bride

* * *

"Andy!" Johanna called happily, throwing her coat on quickly to rush outside. A tall, solidly built man in his mid-fifties with sharp brown eyes was getting out of the SUV, and when he heard her call, his head swiveled around, his face breaking out into a smile.

"Jo!" he swept her up into a hug, swung her around enthusiastically, both of them laughing. Kate, wrapping her coat around her as watched from the verandah, couldn't help but think he was a little too enthusiastic, considering they had only been apart a few days and her mother still considered herself to be a married woman. When they separated, Kate's suspicions were confirmed. Her mother was platonically happy to see him. Andy, on the other hand, was in love with Johanna- it was written all over his face.

This was going to make life interesting.

"Come and meet my daughter," Johanna was tugging at his sleeve, and he followed her willingly. "Jim will be back soon."

Andy frowned just slightly, but smiled again as he shook Kate's hand. "It is an honor to meet you, Detective. Your work on the case has been invaluable, and after all of Johanna's stories, I feel like I know you. You must be thrilled to have your mother back."

Kate opened and closed her mouth a few times, completely unsure of how to respond to that. She wanted to yell at him that it was her case. She wanted to blame him for taking her mother away from her for so long and in such a brutal way. She wanted to duck her head and shuffle her feet in shame for not having expressed yet how very happy she felt that her mother was truly with her and alive once again.

Yet as she looked up into his face, she could do none of those. There was something behind his eyes that had her instinctively trusting him. It was inexplicable, and not altogether welcome. The look on his face was eager, just vaguely reminiscent of her partner back when he was just her partner, trying to please her on a bad day.

"It's good to meet you, too," she managed to choke out, forcing her mouth to twist into a smile. He grinned at her engagingly, before turning back to Johanna, giving her another enthusiastic side-hug.

"It's crazy how much I've missed having you underfoot in my office, Jo," he said with a smile.

She laughed up at him. "Getting into your files and reorganizing them so they make sense?"

"Causing trouble is more like it. Oh, that reminds me..." his voice trailed off as he turned away, back towards the SUV. Johanna followed instinctively, while Kate stayed behind on the verandah, observing. Andy opened the passenger door, and produced a bag, holding it open so Johanna could see the contents. Whatever was in there was clearly significant, judging by the awed look on her face and the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes. She stepped in to him, reached up for a hug. He returned the gesture gently, clearly soothing her.

Just then, another voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Jo?" Jim Beckett stood frozen halfway between the lake and the cabin, the single syllable full of question and heartache. Castle, arms laden with fishing gear, stumbled to a stop beside him, taking in the scene quickly. He looked at Kate, his eyebrows raised in question. She shrugged in response, not really sure what to do about the awkward scene unfolding before them.

It was Jo who broke the silence. "Jim! Come and meet Andy," she called, quickly wiping away her tears and offering her husband a warm if watery smile.

Jim turned to Castle, who wordlessly held out his arms for Jim's gear. Once it was handed over, Jim unwilling made his way over to the driveway. Castle lugged the load up to the verandah, dumping everything unceremoniously so he could join Kate.

"I would hug you, but I'm fishy," he greeted her with an apologetic grin. She bumped shoulders with him, her eyes on the scene before her. "What's going on?" he whispered.

"Andy arrived," she replied, watching as Johanna introduced them and the two men shook hands, sizing each other up suspiciously. Andy had both height and breadth on Jim, but Jim Beckett had a presence about him that could not be denied.

A stilted, polite conversation followed, most of which could not be heard from the two spectators, but they still watched avidly, both of them noting the stilted body language.

"Brunch is ready," Jo finally said, saving the social day. "Andy, you'd be welcome to join us. We made plenty."

Jim frowned. "Excuse me, I need to deal with my fishing gear and change. I'll be in soon."

He moved away, leaving Johanna looking after him, perplexed.

* * *

Castle also disappeared to clean up, and Johanna instructed Andy to make himself comfortable on the loveseat before heading into the kitchen, down the far end of the cabin's open plan living space. Kate paused on the threshold, taking a moment to observe her father out the window cleaning up his fishing gear with his mouth in a tight line, her mother flying about the kitchen putting the final touches on brunch, the hallway door from which she could hear the pipes rattling as her partner turned on the shower, and the living room, where her mother's former... her mother's friend was perching awkwardly on the loveseat, trying not to obviously gawk at a family portrait on the shelf, taken when Kate was in middle school. Suppressing a deep sigh, she moved into the living room and appropriated her father's arm chair, figuring someone should be polite to their guest.

"So," Andy half grinned at her as she perched on the edge of the chair, "Bet you kind of hate me a little bit, don't you?"

Kate raised an eyebrow, forcing herself to settle further back into the cushions. He was on her turf, not the other way around, and she'd be damned if she let him take control of the conversation. Deliberately selecting an aloof conversational tone, she smoothly asked, "And what leads you to that conclusion, Agent Johnson?"

He chuckled. "Your use of my formal title, for starters," he replied easily.

"I've only just met you. It would be rude of me to leap into first name basis with you, wouldn't it?"

"I'm your mother's best friend."

"Maybe. I've only heard your name a handful of time, though."

"I suppose. Whereas I've heard Jo speak of practically nothing else."

"Not even my father?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Both of you," he acknowledged.

Behind her, her father came inside, heading straight through to the bedroom without saying a word. Johanna put down what she was doing and followed him.

Kate waited until the door was closed before continuing.

"You're in love with my Mom, aren't you?" It was phrased like a question, but they both knew it wasn't. She regarded him for a long moment, assessing whether to push him further. To hell with it.

"You're in love with my Mom, and that's why you put her in WitSec That's why you didn't find a way to protect her from Coonan that involved her staying in New York. You wanted to be near her."

He shifted in his seat, showing discomfort for the first time. "Look, Kate-" he began, but she cut him off, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, eyes unwavering.

"Yet she stayed in love with Dad the whole time, didn't she? Fourteen years with you, and she still ran back to Dad the first chance she had."

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, all trace of discomfort was gone and the bemused twinkle was back.

"You're good!" he exclaimed appreciatively. "Ever thought of applying for a federal position?"

Kate blinked. "I'm sorry?" she spluttered.

"You have flawless interrogation technique, and you're a natural at profiling. If you have even a tenth of your Mom's drive and work ethic, you'd be exactly the kind of person I'd love to have on my team. Bracken's not the only one out there, you know. There are few people in this job willing to fight for true justice."

She opened her mouth, shut it again as she considered his words. Could she drop everything and move? But what would that mean for her relationship with Castle? Her eyes betrayed her, straying to the door beyond which the rattling pipes located her partner as being in the shower.

Andy's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You're thinking of Castle, aren't you? Of what that kind of move would do to him? Whether you could take him with you, when his family is here? Well, let me ask you this, Kate. What if it was his life at stake? What if he was the one with a hit out against him, and the only way you could see to save him was to fake his death and take him away? Would you do it, knowing his daughter and his mother would be left to believe he was dead? Would you do it to save his life?"

Her eyes flew to his, and she was unable to stop the moisture gathering. The images were too clear. It would have been so easy for a target to be painted on Castle's back during the Smith debacle, too easy for him to have been caught in the cross hairs.

And she knew without a shadow of doubt that she would have done whatever was necessary to keep him safe- even if that meant separating him from Alexis. Even though it would hurt them both- at least he would be alive. At least there would be the possibility of a reunion one day.

"You keep talking about me finding an alternative, Kate, and believe me- over the past 14 years I've thought of alternative after alternative. Hindsight is twenty-twenty. At the time, though..." he closed his eyes against the obvious pain of his regret. "At the time, there was none that I could see. You're a detective, Kate. Tell me what I should have done differently, when she wouldn't leave you willingly and she was bleeding out in an alleyway and a decision had to be made? Yes, I care about her. I didn't want to see her hurt. But you make it sound like it was all part of a conspiracy for me to get your Mom all to myself, and that's not how it went down at all. I did the only thing I could think of to protect her- and you, and Jim. Tell me what I should have done differently?"

Johanna bustled back into the living area then. "Sorry about leaving you like that. Katie, will you ask your father to bring the chair from our room? Andy, take a seat," she patted the back of one of the dining chairs, before calling "It's ready!" towards the bedrooms and flying around the kitchen as if she had never gone away.

Kate opened the door to the little hallway just in time to collide with Castle's broad chest. His hands came up to her hips to automatically steady her, and she found herself suddenly surrounded by his clean, sharp, fresh-from-the-shower scent. The combined affect overwhelmed her, caused her to stumble into him. He slid his arms around her in response, drawing her into him until their bodies were flush against one another. She wormed her arms up around his neck, enjoying the feeling of him holding her so securely, and buried her nose in the collar of his shirt and simply breathed him in. They stood there, enjoying being wrapped around one another and their moment apart from the crazy family drama they were caught in the middle of.

A throat cleared behind, causing them to break apart like guilty school children caught under the bleachers. Jim stood in the doorway of his bedroom, watching them with a distinct twinkle in his eye.

"Didn't I hear your mother calling us to brunch?" he asked mildly. Castle shuffled his feet guiltily, but Kate squared her shoulders and met her father's gaze.

"She wants you to bring the chair from your room," she replied. The hint of a smile dropped from the corner of Jim's mouth and he nodded tightly, disappearing back into his room to fetch the chair.

Kate took Castle's hand affectionately- they weren't often known for their PDAs, but if she was being honest with herself, she needed the connection with him after the suggestion of losing him. He went with it, squeezing her hand and grinning at her when he caught her eye, his expression full of love and pride. Her heart tripped over itself at his open adoration. What had she done to deserve being loved so completely? So fully, so selflessly? She smiled shyly back, leading him around the back of the table.

Jim entered behind them, handing the spare chair to Castle across the table before seating himself at his usual spot at the head. Castle squeezed the extra seat in next to Kate, arranging his knees around the table leg and finding himself having to look up at his girlfriend from the mismatched chair. She threw him a laughing look as he tried to force his bulky frame into as smaller space as possible.

"So Andy, Johanna tells me you're only in town for a few hours?" Jim began as he reached for his coffee. Johanna brought over the food and they all began passing dishes around as the conversation flowed.

"Yes. I was tying up a couple of loose ends here over the past couple of days, but I need to be back in DC this evening," Andy replied.

"I know Jo appreciated you taking the time to drop by," Jim replied.

"Things have sure been quiet around the office without her there. I know she's been itching to be back here, though. I've never seen her as excited as she was when she found out it was over and she could go home." If there was a wistful note in Andy's voice, it was ignored by tacit consent.

Jo passed the bacon and buttered a piece of toast. "It's been amazing being back. Surreal, but amazing. Like all the missing pieces have come back together," she gazed lovingly across the table at her husband. Jim smiled, his face softening as he held her gaze.

"There was never anyone but you, Jo," he said with simple sincerity.

She blushed, right there at the brunch table, everything falling away except the husband she had missed for so long. "Same for me, Jim. There could never be anyone else."

Castle cleared his throat, breaking his partner's parents from the yearning he recognized from his own relationship with their daughter. "So Andy, tell us about some of your adventures? After some of our dealings with Bracken, you must have some stories," he suggested, encouraging the conversation to flow. Soon they were exchanging tales, one-upping each other with cop humor and drawing laughs from everyone.

After brunch, Andy excused himself, citing his drive back to the city. They walked him out to the car as a group. He shook hands with Castle firmly, then Kate, before embracing Johanna warmly.

"Take care of yourself, Andy. Don't be a stranger," she murmured.

"I won't. You, too," he replied in the same tone, before releasing her and nodding to Jim. "She's all yours," he said.

"I know," Jim replied.


End file.
